The Thrilling Adventures Of Magic Man!
by Tallictr
Summary: Not really set on being a Superhero, but not foolish enough to oppose them as a Supervillain, Magic Man strives to simply have fun and survive in the new reality he's found himself in with the new superpowers he wields. Not ashamed in taking the route of the self-insert who chooses to follow the safest yet most financially lucrative path, this Magic Man's feats will astound us all!
1. Chapter 1

_Hello party people!_

_Just dropping off another story from that list I mentioned in other stories that I posted today. This one, though actually has two chapter in its queue. So, yay! Let me know what you think._

_Thanks for reading and I'll see you all in the next chapter._

_Bye~_

Standing in the empty space, the realization hits me that I've been given a chance, either by God or the Universe or whoever else might have the power to do so, to live a second life in the world of my choosing. I'm not talking about other planets in my home universe, though. I mean worlds I originally thought to be nothing more than works of fiction.

Harry Potter, One Piece, Marvel, Twilight, Star Wars, and so many more worlds and universes just waiting for me to make my mark on them. All were viable options given my heavy interest in all genres ranging from fantasy to sci-fi.

It was…amazing. I had half-expected Hell to be my final destination given the…less than saintly…life I had lived. I wasn't a total scumbag or anything, if that's what you're thinking. I did good things all the time.

I stepped up and took care of my ex-girlfriend's kid like she was my own when her mother was in rehab, I played music to the elderly whenever I went to visit my mother and her friends at the home, and I even helped put together a neighborhood watch when the area I lived in started to get targeted by some assholes who stole jewelry and television sets from hard working families.

Now, given all that…It wouldn't be incorrect to say that I played a major role in some of those situations. Such as me being the one who got my ex-girlfriend into drugs in the first place a few months before I myself went cold turkey.

Or that I was the one who went around robbing the neighborhood I lived in and then organized the watch so that I could use the gaps in the schedule to rob people of things I saw when I went to visit them.

So, it really was surprising that I got this amazing opportunity when I know for a fact that there are other people who deserve it far more than me. But all that aside, I've chosen to go with one where there are superheroes and supervillains.

Now, I love Marvel and the people it has, but DC is where I feel like I'd stand a better chance if I were to choose to be a supervillain. Superheroes just don't have the same appeal. At least as a villain I'd be able to make some real money. If I don't get caught, that is.

After making my choice, I was given another.

Choosing my superpowers, of which I could select up to five. Three of them passives and the other two actives. This is where things got tricky. Because there were so many goddamn choices I could choose from, it took me a long time to go through the entire list.

I'm pretty sure it took me a few weeks to decide. Time is tricky here, wherever I am.

The way I think it works is that the passive abilities would automatically take effect while the active abilities would need me to do something specific to get them going. Maybe a motion or a word. For example, flight might be something I'd need to raise my arms and jump to activate but super strength is naturally occurring whether I want it to be or not.

So, with all this in mind, I chose Ultimate Healing Factor, Superhuman Constitution, and Advanced Intelligence as my passive abilities.

The extensive list of powers floating in the empty space before me displayed a brief explanation beside each name. Useless, since it only showed up after I selected them, but whatever. My Ultimate Healing Factor essentially made me Wolverine without the claws and adamantium bones. My lifespan was longer, and my injuries healed almost instantly.

Though I'm unsure if this means I can regrow or reattach lost limbs or not. In the comics Wolverine couldn't because his Adamantium skeleton stopped it…somehow. I think in one of them he was able to survive getting his head cut off, but I don't really remember much beyond that one detail. Which has more risk than potential reward, in my opinion.

Superhuman Constitution made me stronger, faster, and just _better _than the average, baseline human. Whether that puts me on Batman's, or even Deathstroke's, level in terms of raw physical power I won't know until I fight one of them.

Which I don't plan on doing ever if I can help it. I may have powers now, but Batman is one of the people in this universe I don't want to fuck with unless I really have to.

Sadly, Advanced Intelligence did _not_ put me on Lex Luthor's level. The man's genius was unparalleled on Earth. His success was only really held back by his arrogance. But it _did_ make me much better at understanding concepts and recalling certain lost memories and ideas I've had. Ideas that now seem much more likely to be turned into reality with the level of technology on Earth at any given point in time.

Like the last time I had a lucid conversation with my mother…huh…

Anyway, for the active powers I painstakingly chose out of all the badass options I was given, I felt it best to go with Healing and Broad-Spectrum Psychic Powers.

Now, the part where I can heal someone of just about _anything_ is something I chose because I'd rather not see someone I might get close to in this universe die because stupid me wanted to make it slightly less cloudy outside and chose Weather Manipulation over something infinitely more useful. Like _Healing_.

I can also use Healing to win the hearts of some of DC's more tragic characters. The first such character that comes to mind is Victor Fries (Mister Freeze). If I could cure his wife's sickness, I'd probably have a friend ready to help me with all the science-y stuff.

Just because I can process information a lot faster and with much less fuss that doesn't mean I know everything all of a sudden. It just means I understand more of what I already know and can make connections to what I don't know through that understanding. Also, I now have a photographic memory. _Fuckin'_ _sweet_!

As for Broad-Spectrum Psychic Powers, the trade off with choosing a broad-spectrum of mental manipulation over a specific area is that I'm more like a jack of all trades instead of an incredibly powerful master of one, single trade.

Why would I not want to be as greedy as I can with this?

So, now I'm able to read someone's mind and lift a car up at the same time. And while I'm not going to be the grandmaster of telekinesis or delving into the recesses of peoples' minds, I'll still be pretty damn powerful in both fields.

Before you ask, I _am_ going for the overpowered self-insert cliché. Why? Simply because monsters like Darkseid and all the other assholes of the _Multiverse_ just as strong and stronger are going to be definite threats to me when they invade Earth.

And I plan on all of the people I enjoyed reading about being alive at the end of all that bullshit.

Then the third and fourth questions appeared: Where? When?

Where?

That was an easy question. While the DC had a lot of great characters with exciting backgrounds, amazing powers, and interesting plots, none of them held as much of my interest as Gotham. The perfect city to start my new life.

It didn't hurt that I know more about Gotham than anywhere else. Gotham, for all intents and purposes, is a generalized constant. Meaning I'll still know the characters in play even if their histories, powers, and personalities are different. Though, that may not be the case at all, hopefully.

As for when? I don't know.

Hmm…I guess the best time to start would be sometime _before_ the Justice League forms but _after_ Batman's started his crime fighting. It's probably better that I get in on the ground floor of both of those things if I can.

After that, the floating words and the empty space around me began to fade away and a new setting started to fade in. Was that it? There wasn't anything left? I half expected a lecture on how not to squander my second chance by being me in all my glory or some shit.

Guess it was a 'get in and get out' kind of deal. I like it. Nothing sounds better than short and sweet situations where I come out on top.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello, everyone._

_I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, because I'm coming at you live with the second! This one was particularly fun to write because I'd just finished a project for a class and I was feeling free. And in that mindset, I just felt the creative juices flowing and the main character's personality coming out full force. Haha~!_

_Anyways, enjoy reading the chapter, l__et me know what you think, and thank you for taking the time. Hopefully I'll see you all in the next chapter._

_Bye~_

It's been two years since I got here, and I have been abusing the hell out of my powers. I mean, there hasn't been a solid hour where I didn't mess with someone or do something extraordinary just because.

Well, maybe not every hour of every day. But still pretty frequently. Definitely on a daily basis.

Whether it was using the jedi mind trick, I knew going Broad-Spectrum wasn't a mistake, and getting free hot dogs from street vendors or spending three days straight at the public library and using my increased intelligence to speed read the complete collection of _How to [Blank] For Dummies_.

The way my brain takes in and processes information is like nothing I've ever experienced. Like a sponge, it soaks up whatever I read, watch, or listen to. Though, it also has the tendency to supercharge my habit of becoming overly immersed.

Say I only mean to stay in a library for an hour. Next thing I know it's Thursday and I feel like I haven't eaten in three days. Which I haven't, hence the hot dog vendor becoming one of the many mental manipulation victims I'd been practicing on.

The thing with getting powers is that I didn't have full control over them at the very beginning. You may be able to turn them on and off at will, thank god for that since I didn't want a 'Lelouch and Euphemia at The Special Administrative Zone of Japan' moment somewhere down the line, but you have to work hard for more control over them than just the basics.

What really sunk in for me during these two years was that control over my powers is what keeps me both sane and alive. Having my powers and having no control over them would raise Hell the likes of which I honestly don't want to see.

Never again do I want to feel what it's like to listen to both the voices _and_ minds of over ten million people all at the same time. I was comatose for a day and a half and the only thing that saved me from my brain melting out my ears, I now know that grey matter doesn't wash out of cotton as easily as one might hope, was my Ultimate Healing Factor.

I was amazed at just how fast I managed to accidentally kill myself. It was maybe…a minute and a half after I first arrived. But I did have a good laugh about it though; as well as a good cry. The crying helped me more than I will ever freely admit.

Anyway, in the time I've been here I've managed to get a lot accomplished in terms of personal goals. Mostly just making money off of sick rich people, injured supervillains, and the occasional superhero who I come across from time to time.

Batman had been out and about for over two years when I first showed up, with Dick Grayson being the current Robin. I knew because the name Robin didn't show up until a year after Batman's did.

And since Batman and his sidekick have been stopping criminals in their usual fist-to-face way, my services were somewhat of a hot commodity these days.

I had established myself through Gotham's true elite; the richest of the rich. Well, technically they'd be the people either somewhat on or just below the people who were involved in the Court of Owls. But still, I'm making bank.

And not only did I get a word of mouth thing going, like most high-end under the table businesses operate, I could even charge whatever I wanted because what I had to offer was honestly worth more than these people had to give.

And I'm not just talking about money. I mean, I could ask for _anything _if I could manage to get a wealthy enough man or woman on my client list. Weapons, drugs, information, and even _people_ if I really felt like it.

That last one was certainly an option I looked into; though not for the reason you think.

Finding someone like Catwoman or Mister Freeze was going to be hard in a place like Gotham. Most of the people I'm interested in meeting are only able to be found through grueling detective work, like Batman often subjects himself to, or being in the right place at the right time.

And since I was too lazy to do either of those things, I also wanted them to come to me so that I could have negotiating power, sitting and waiting for word to spread was the option I liked the most.

Sex is also something people are more than willing to give me if it means their child can live a life without being in a wheelchair or their elderly mother could remember who she or anyone else in her family was. _Or_ if they suddenly saw an unexpected dip in their funds, couldn't pay me the full amount halfway through, and thought I wouldn't finish the treatment.

Not going to lie, I have seriously thought about just spending a week demanding sex in return for good health rather than my usual fee if only because this new body of mine draws women to me in ways my old one couldn't hope to.

This body wasn't the one I died in; that's an odd thought even now. I'm tall and muscular, so that's a definite upgrade compared to the short, fluffy guy I was before. I mean, I still dated a lot despite my previous stature; personality _was_ and _is_ key. I just didn't have to work as hard for a woman's attention anymore.

Another thing that changed was my voice. It sounded like my voice was so much deeper than it should be. Like Ron Perlman, deep. Think Slade from the Teen Titans. The good one, the classic one, the one that was not Teen Titans Go!

Aside from those three things, I was more or less the same in the looks department. My hair was still short and deep brown to the point of almost being black, and my eyes were still the same shade of dark azure blue. My face was what I assume my old face would have looked like without the weight muffling its features; mainly, a firm jawline I loved look at in the mirror.

My usual fee for Healing a person is $300,000 a pop, or something of equal value, over the course of four treatment sessions. By saying that I couldn't take care of their problems in one go, while I totally could, I could earn more money from one client than I would otherwise from four.

Total dick move, I know, but it was hard to care when the money I take is a small drop in the ocean that is a client's savings account. Also, I had made tens of millions of dollars of which I can spend however I want. The guilt becomes a non-issue after that.

But I never took up any of those offers, and holy hell did I really, _really, _want to, because if there's one thing I've learned from all my years of reading comics and watching movies and tv shows, it's that almost _nothing_ contributes more to the downfall of a character than a scorned son or daughter who he/she never knew existed but was blamed for a miserable childhood anyway.

Fifteen maybe twenty years will go by and all of a sudden someone who bears a striking resemblance to yours truly tries to undermine or take over or do something else to a business or life that's been built by my own two hands. Something that completely fucks up all my shit beyond what's necessary.

Perhaps a rogue clan of ninja found them as a child and beat the hell out of them for the first eleven years of life for the sake of some prophecy. Or maybe an evil corporation or some kind of cult raises them as the perfect killing machine for whatever illegal and amoral shit they might be into.

Well, if that's the price to pay for one night of…what would probably be the greatest sex ever because I now have the body of someone who can only be an absolute animal in the sack… then no way. Not a chance. Not to me.

Cock-blocked by the DC Universe itself…I hate my otherwise spectacular life so much right now…god damn you, comic book clichés and your plots full of revenge and family angst! FUCK!

Moving on! (Before I break down into tears again.)

Magic Man. That's the 'super' name I've been stuck with. It's not the _worst _name I could have been given, but I definitely could have gone for something…cooler. Maybe a little less reliant on the [Blank]man formula.

Superman. Batman. Aquaman. Deadman. Hawkman. Hourman. And now Magic Man. I suppose it could also be Magicman, but I think it looks better with the space in between Magic and Man. Also, I think Magicman was an actual character _waaayyy _back when. Not sure, but not going to risk it.

Then again, I shouldn't really complain since it's my own fault I got it in the first place. I never gave my clients my real name, only smiling or changing the topic whenever they asked. And, thus, opening the doorway for some random little girl, who stuck up a conversation with me at a high-end of society type party that I was invited to as thanks for my efforts in healing this woman's senile father, to comment on how I must be some sort of Magic Man to do all those cool things.

I laughed a bit, teased her about how it could be magic for all she knew, and went back to loading a plate with all the California rolls I could get my hands on. And then, the unthinkable happened. It stuck. Someone must have overheard and spread it around the mysterious miracle worker they'd spent millions on was actually named Magic Man.

Needless to say, it was quite interesting to hear people begin to call me that whenever I met with clients.

Still, giving them my old name would've been like bringing my old identity back to life and forsaking the chance at this new life I'm so very much enjoying.

As far as I'm concerned, Matthew Garcia died two years ago. And in his place is the mysterious Healer known as Magic Man. Rich, powerful, awkwardly named, and ready to have fun at the drop of a dime; barring sexual relations with clients as that will lead to his eventual downfall.

As time went on, my client list grew and with it my total savings. I think I've managed to make a good forty million cash off of Healing alone. And then another fifty million by selling off the expensive antiques and jewelry from clients who find it harder to part with cash than a pretty looking vase.

Oddly enough, I didn't really spend much money during the last two years. I didn't have any bills, there really weren't any more reasons to drink myself stupid at night, and I didn't pay any taxes because I technically didn't exist in this world; I looked myself up online, but there wasn't anything I could find about my old self.

Aside from that I also kept records of every patient and all their relevant information in my journals, I have absolutely zero trust whatsoever in technology, in case Batman ever came to my doorstep and I needed a way to keep him on my good side.

Staying safe by being an informant for the _fucking_ _win_, I say!

Even with my powers, I'm doubting that I could win against him in the long-run. Maybe I could avoid him for a little while, but that man catches up to everyone he goes after at some point. And I don't think I want to be on the receiving end of any of that nightmare bullshit.

With all that said, I'm two years in and more than ready to go beyond just quietly making money and Healing people. Not that there's anything remotely wrong with that, I intend to keep doing so for a good long while.

But no one has once come to find me and I'm starting to get antsy. So, it's time to take a little field trip to Arkham.

I just hope someone interesting is there.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey everybody!_

_I'm back with the third chapter of this story. It was like pulling teeth I tell ya. But pull them I did, so I hope you enjoy reading it much more than I enjoyed writing it._

_Anyway, leave me a review and let me know what you think. I'll see you all in the next chapter!_

_Bye~_

It was easy enough to get _into_ the asylum. A little bribe here, some mental manipulation there, and suddenly I was given free reign of the place. Which was…kind of concerning and not at all surprising. Arkham did jack shit to keep these crazy assholes permanently in check. It was little more than a vacation for the truly slippery ones like Joker or Clayface.

I was only semi-surprised to find that the people I had tracked, almost all of which were supposed to be locked up in Arkham, had escaped not too long before I got there. It was mostly my fault for putting off actually going to see them for so long. I have a habit of procrastinating.

Not even a second life filled with superpowers, a smokin' hot body, and riches can truly take the laziness out of me. *sigh*

Oh well!

According to the guards, Mr. Freeze escaped a week and a half ago, Two-Face hasn't made any moves recently that would see him put back in Arkham, Bane's not even _in_ Gotham because of who the hell knows why, and the Penguin is serving his sentence under house arrest.

How he avoids actual prison so frequently is beyond me. Still, it makes him easier to find once my business is settled here in comfy ol' Arkham Asylum. Whoops, did I say comfy? I meant creepy as all hell. So much so that I wouldn't be all that surprised if the walls just started oozing right this very moment. Whether it oozed blood or slime, it wouldn't make that much of a difference to me.

Still, there _are_ some options left that I can talk to; even if they aren't my first choices. So, it's not a complete waste of my time. But never mind that. Oh, I should cross them off my list while I'm here. Which was written inside this cool detective's notepad I found at a cute little thrift shop downtown.

…hey, don't be so quick judge me as the cheap piece of shit I still very much am despite my wealth, alright?

I just figure that with all the times that someone accidentally stumbled across a power ring or a magic amulet of great power or some other superpower bestowing device that should have no business being where it was found, maybe me looking in one of the established hot zones for unusual finds every so often might lead me to stumbling across one of my own.

As I have said before, universe ending threats are out there. Like Darkseid and his quest to find the Anti-Life Equation, Brainiac and his desire to absorb the knowledge of every civilization in existence, Trigon and his dimension conquering ways, and whatever the hell Parallax's deal was. I don't remember the specifics, but I kind of remember that it was one of the Guardians of the Universe's dirty little secrets. So, it was all kinds of trouble, no doubt.

Honestly? Fuck. That. Bullshit. I may be a great deal stronger and faster and smarter than a lot of the heroes and villains I'm sure I'll come across at some point, but I'm pretty damn sure Superman can fuck my shit up six ways to Sunday without even batting an eye. And _he _was just _barely_ able to stop—what was that monster's name again?—fuckin' Doomsday.

You know what, I'm pretty sure he died during that fight!

…yeah, he did! So, I'll take every advantage I can get my hands on. Because the harsh reality is that the DC Universe is dangerous as fuck and thus denies me the pleasure of being able to sit back and relax forever. I consider myself lucky to have even got my two years of relative peace; which I now threaten with my trip to Arkham.

Anyway, it's pointless to really worry myself sick over it right this very moment when none of these issues are going to be popping up until the Justice League forms. So, enough of that. Back to the list!

1\. Mr. Freeze (Somewhere in Gotham.)

2\. Poison Ivy (Arkham Asylum.)

3\. Bane (Out of country.)

4\. Two-Face (Somewhere in Gotham.)

5\. Catwoman (Somewhere in Gotham.)

6\. Deadshot (Current Status Unknown.)

7\. Orca (Arkham Asylum.)

8\. The Penguin (Check The Iceberg Lounge.)

9\. The Phantasm (Look for Andrea Beaumont.)

10\. Killer Frost (Arkham Asylum.)

These are the supervillains I'm interested in getting in bed with; mind out of the gutter, you.

They're the ones that I want to be on friendly terms with so when shit hits the fan, and it will hit the fan sooner or later, I have people who'll do business with me. I'm not above working with criminals under the right set of circumstances. In fact, it'd be more out of place for me to work with a hero all things considered.

Now, time for the game plan. First off, I need to go see Orca since I honestly believe she'll be the easiest to persuade. Who doesn't like research money and the chance to be intimate with their poor, lonely spouse again, after all? How long has it been since they've even seen each other?

I can't help but wonder how a marriage could even survive what Orca went through.

It takes a few minutes for me to get to the depths of Arkham, which is where the significantly less human-like inmates are housed in the stronger cells. However, some were still not good enough to hold them if said inmate has had adequate time to plan out an escape. How much time they'd need depending on the one inside the cell.

Someone like Joker might already have an escape hatch waiting for him, if he's as clever as he is insane. Which, hopefully, he isn't because that would make him much more terrifying than I had hoped he'd be.

Following the directional signs that had been bolted to the walls, I found that Orca's cell was somewhat separated from the other supercells. I figure it's easier to call them 'supercells' than to say '[insert supervillain's name here]'s superhuman containment unit' over and over. Probably because of her large size needing enough room to not suffocate and the fact that her accommodations would affect the design of other supercells if it wasn't.

Pointedly ignoring the panel that has a visible from a distance 'Shock' button with slightly faded lettering to the right hand side of the glass, that I've only seen beside the 'reserved rooms' of people that I know have superpowers, I walk up to the glass. I ignore it because if I don't then I'll start to think about the possibility that this place is much crueler to its less-than-human inmates than it has any right to be.

That's not something I want to think about at the moment. Not if I want to get through my recruitment pitches without that look of pity I'm bound to have. Something that won't go over well with the more prideful people on my list; whoever they might end up being.

I tap on the glass and wait. She's laying down on her side, with her back to the glass. So, she's either sleeping or ignoring me. I tap on the glass again, harder this time. She turns her head my way curiously, so she _was _ignoring me, before sighing and tuning her body around to face me. It might be the fact that I'm wearing a suit that allows her initial curiosity to give way to irritation.

Which makes sense considering most of the _true_ assholes in this world wear suits, if you really think about it. Corrupt politicians, the rich and therefore the powerful, Amanda Waller, Lex Luthor…several others I can't think of at the moment. You know, the usual suspects.

So, no surprises there.

"Hello, Mrs. Balin. Or would you rather I call you Grace? Or Orca? Whichever you prefer." I wait for a response but get nothing. Pushing on as if she'd responded, "Okay, Grace it is." Still nothing. "From what I understand, you're in need of-" I pause, watching as she lifts her arm and points to where her ears should be. I don't see any ears there, but I'm not about to point that out to her. Talk about being rude.

The longer she points to her phantom ear, the more confused I feel. We stare at each other until she finally mouths '**I can't hear you.' **It's hard to make out what with her mouth being like eight times the size of mine, but I get the gist of it.

Oh. I frown and look back over to the shock button. Beneath the large blue button is an assortment of three smaller buttons. Paying attention this time, I can see the small labels beneath them: 'Sedate' 'Speaker' 'Spray'. So, one, what the fuck increased intelligence!? Where were you just now? And, two, I wonder what 'Spray' does. I want to know, but I have a feeling it's nothing good.

Feeling my face heat up, I quickly walk over to the panel and press 'Speaker'. "So, uh, that was really embarrassing. You mind not telling anyone about that?"

An amused chuckle escapes her. "Sure. It's not like I have anyone to talk to down here anyway." She sounds…a lot more feminine than I expected her to. "So," she sits up with her legs crossed. "you don't look like a guard. Not with that fancy suit and tie on. How did you get down here? It's hard enough for people to meet with the regular crazies upstairs. Or so I'm told. I can't even imagine what it took to meet someone like me."

"Yeah, you're right. Apparently, you need to be either a family member, someone with either money or influence, or Batman." I shrug. "And while I do have money and influence, it'd be a waste of either to use it just to get down here. So, I just asked the guards real nice to let me in and they did. Not as difficult as one would make it seem."

She narrowed her eyes. "Not as difficult…? Who the hell are you? And what do you want from me?"

I smile. "I don't have a name, per se. But, due to some miracles here and there, people tend to call me Magic Man. It's not the most accurate name, but-" I drop my smile as hysterical laughter comes through the speaker system. "Hey! In my defense I didn't choose the name. A loud mouth little girl did, so knock off the laughter." She did _not _knock off the laughter. If anything, she laughed harder.

And so, I wait a good five minutes or so before she can look at me without breaking down into hysterics. "O-okay…okay I'm f-fine…" She clears her throat. "Alright. So, you were about to tell me why you're here" A giggle escapes her, "Ma_gic Man_!" followed by more laughter.

Quite frankly, I'm feeling more than a little self-conscious at this point. No one's actually laughed in my face like this before. I mean sure, a raised eyebrow here and there and the occasional amused smirk from your stereotypical high-society diva. But that's really it. None of this descent into absolute fit of laughter.

Maybe a little demonstration of what I can do might bring her focus back; it might make me feel better about myself too. Not to threaten her, but to pique her interest. I place my hand on the glass. I'm not actually sure what it's made of, so I'll just assume it's some sort of super strong glass type material and begin digging my fingers into it. "You know," The sound of cracks being made have her snapping her head back to me, eyes wide. "I get that the name is funny. But it's actually starting to hurt my feelings a little bit. So, could you not?"

It was a gamble on me being able to do anything to the glass, but I'm really glad I didn't embarrass myself just now.

I let go of the glass. "Can we get back to the matter at hand, please?" I get a silent nod. Great, now she's cautious. Well, I guess it was a little _too_ badass of me to just put a mark on something not even she could. I look like an ordinary baseline human after all. "Oh, c'mon. I'm not here for anything more than to offer you a job. So, stop it with all that body tension already."

She scoots back in her cell but does relax ever so slightly.

"You see, I've been in Gotham for two years now. I've been spending my time quite productively what with making money, gathering records of misdeeds and other such illegal activities for possible blackmail purposes, studying up on its eye catching inhabitants, and even healing incurable diseases and injuries. The last one being the reason I received the name Magic Man." I can see the mirth in her eyes at the name.

I'm really not that little girl's fan right now. Not in the slightest.

"_Anyway_, those two years were a sort of grace period for me. Now, I'm actively in search of potential friends, such as you, to whom I can be of service to." Orca frowns. "Real quick, do you prefer to be called Orca or Grace or Mrs. Balin? Just don't want to keep referring to you as 'she' in my head all the time."

She ignores my question, damn her, and asks one of her own. "What's the job offer? I won't go with you just to be a damn henchwoman. I have far too much self-respect to end up being a flunky for you."

"I want to hire you to look for a solution to a problem someone I know is having." Although she doesn't have any eyebrows, I swear I can see her raise hers. "See, this person has permanently turned herself into a giant, muscular humanoid Orca. She can't go back to living her life as it was, which means she's had to give up a lot during that time. Her happy marriage being one of them." The more I speak, the more incredulous she gets. "Now, I want you to look into a way for her to make the transformation happen at will."

There's a stretch of silence between us for a good minute before she gets to her feet and approaches the glass separating us. "You mean…you want to hire me to look for a-"

"A partial-cure to your condition, yes. Not a permanent one, mind you. Well, that too if you can. But you did what you did to yourself with barely any funding at all and under less than ideal circumstances in a fucking soon-to-be-out-of-business aquarium, right?" She nods. "Then what would you be able to accomplish if you had state of the art lab equipment guaranteed years ahead of what that aquarium had and millions in funding."

"…If you're serious about this…"

"I'm dead serious." And I was. Helping her, getting a cure/weapon for anyone like her that's much too dangerous to leave them as they are, and gaining my first real partner since I started this quest of mine were three great reasons to _be _serious.

"Then I accept under the condition that you can prove to me that you are who you say you are, and you have what you say you have." I can see it in her eyes. Not the mirth, no that's long gone, but the hunger to achieve what I've set as the main goal of her new job; to be able to be normal again on command but be able to keep the boons of having the power of Orca. It almost sounded like a dream come true.

"Perfect. Now, stand back. It's about to get loud and messy." I waste no time in punching the glass with all my might. It doesn't shatter on impact, but I do get a feel of how strong I am. One more punch and it slightly bent inwards but just about ready to give. A third punch and it flies across the room, hitting Orca in the chest as it bounces off the ground.

"Oops, that's my bad! You okay?" I watch as she rubs her right breast a bit, I can't help but be startled by the fact that I only now notice that she'd technically naked. Huh. Not as hot and bothered as I thought I'd be about seeing a naked woman in front of me.

"I'm fine. Just itches, is all." I nod and motion for her to come out. "Why haven't the alarms gone off?"

We start walking back down the way I came, side by side. "Oh. I told my new guard friends to disable to alarms for your cell, Poison Ivy's cell, and Killer Frost's cell. Also, we're going to go recruit them as well if at all possible. Just a quick heads up for you. Sound good?"

The woman simply nodded before we sunk back into silence. I hummed a few songs, she looked at me strangely I think because it's hard to tell without reading her mind which would be rather rude on my part, and there was an unexpected feeling of peace between us. After a few minutes, we'd just turned the last corner to get to Killer Frost's cell, Orca spoke up.

"Grace is fine when it's just you and I. But otherwise, it's just Orca." She didn't even look at me as she spoke. But that was alright. I could already guess what expression Grace was going for through her tone.

Oh, look at that. We're here.


	4. Chapter 4

_Hey guys and gals!_

_I'm going to make this quick becasue I've been trying to eat this burger for the last hour and now I need to re-heat it_ again!

_*Ahem* Here's chapter 4, coming at you later than I wanted! Sorry it took so long! Leave a review so I know you don't hate me! PM me if you do hate me! I hope you enjoy the read and I'll see you all in the next chapter!_

_Bye~_

Killer Frost's cell wasn't like Grace's. Where the entrance to Grace's cell was a wide wall of thick glass covering that I assume had to be remotely opened, how else would they be able to get her bulky frame in and out when needed, Frost's was a thick, insulated metal door outfitted with multiple automatic locks.

In addition to these locks, which were operated through the control panel to the left of the door, were two slots. A small one for viewing and a wide one for sliding food through that could both be opened or closed by hand. Though I imagine doing so with the proper body protection against her touch would also be a component, as she could quite literally suck away the heat from your body and chill you to the bone.

Even the air surrounding the cell's door was near freezing as she absorbed the heat beyond whatever warming device or mechanism was keeping her alive. Unless she was just slowly dying inside because no one took the time to try and understand her condition. Which, in that case, would give me even more of a reason to get her on my payroll.

I can't help but wonder if they up the cold, because she still needs heat to live, or up the heat when it comes time to interact with her so as to weaken her to the point of being immobile. Something to ask at a later date. You know, when we're not in a sanitorium that doubles as a containment facility for the criminally super-powered.

Man, I hope my dealings with these people aren't going to all be so depressing to work through.

"Orca," The cell isn't soundproofed like hers was, so I wasn't about to call her Grace in front of someone not on our side only moments after she'd told me not to. "stand back a bit. I'd rather I not hit you with a door twice in one day."

Shrugging, she moved a few feet out of the way. "It doesn't really matter. My body's not that easy to hurt. I can take a dozen metal doors to the face and be only slightly worse for wear." She spoke casually, waving off my concerns. However, I wasn't one to let things like that go.

"Yeah, well," My fingers pierce the metal and curl to get a good grip, "it's not about whether you feel it. It's the _principle _of the matter." before I dig in my heels and pull the slightly weighted door off of its hinges and gently toss it to my left. "Just because you don't get _hurt_ by having thick chunks of glass or metal thrown at you, doesn't mean you should be comfortable with it happening regularly." I pause, thinking of the absurdity of such a statement.

Having large hunks of metal and glass and who the hell knows what else _regularly_? Just what the hell is my life going to become now that I've thrown myself into the fray? "Or at all. Really, you should be more upset about this. At least, more upset than _I_ am. And I'm the one that hit you!" Another nonchalant shrug.

"Really, is that all you can-?" Turning my attention back to the now open cell, I absolutely freeze in place and helplessly stare awkwardly at the sight before me. A light blue-skinned woman I would guess to be in her early twenties, her snow white hair combed to the right side exposing the shaved left side, staring directly at me in growing mortification.

"Ah, what the fuck?" I ask softly.

"What?" Grace asks curiously from her out of view position.

"What the fuck?" Killer Frost asks, equally as soft. Before coming back to her senses and absolutely screaming at the top of her lungs. "WHAT THE FUCK!"

My eyes widen as I look slightly down, my supposedly advanced brain short-circuiting at what I'm witnessing. It doesn't last long as- "Oh, shit!" I exclaim, surprise and understanding hitting me almost as hard as the barrage of icicles, all very sharp and very large, that send me stumbling back against the wall behind me.

Grace, after standing there in shock at the unexpected attack for a moment, charges to stand between me and Killer Frost. "Hey, Frost! What the fuck do you…think…you're…? Oh. OH! Okay, wow, that's embarrassing." Only to stop once she's begun taking the brunt of the assault and managed to get a good look inside.

Killer Frost, the poor woman I will be more than happy to apologize to profusely regardless of what she decides, had been sitting half-naked on the toilet when I freed her cell's door from its frozen hinges. Total anime character introduction cliché, by the way, but I couldn't give two fucks. Apologies, plural, were owed. Because it's probably a lot more horrific for her than what I can imagine it being.

And what I'm imagining is what if you're just one day minding your own business, _doing_ your business, when out of nowhere an intimidatingly large man with an eager smile you've never seen before rips the door open and gazes at you while you're in, arguably, the most vulnerable position most people can be caught in. Would you also not freak the fuck out? Because I sur as shit would!

The only difference between Killer Frost and most people is that she has powers and is therefore armed at all times. As such, I now sport a torn to hell suit jacket and a tie that was all but cut off just below the knot, the two pieces barely holding on to each other with just the few remaining threads. Somehow, she'd managed to miss my dress shirt and undershirt completely, but that's neither here nor there.

I sigh as I take off the ruined jacket and tie, tossing neither away and instead holding them in my arms, lamenting the fact that this was now going to be infinitely harder than it originally was. As for why I bothered keeping them, I'd rather not give Batman any leads back to me if I can.

The cameras down here, thanks to my new security friends upstairs, weren't on, so there goes any visual or audio recordings of me. Neither Batman nor the police would find any fingerprints as I had applied healthy coating of superglue to my hands to fill in the dips between the ridges, which would no doubt be a bitch and a half to remove with the acetone waiting malevolently for me back home.

They hopefully wouldn't find any hair or skin particles or whatever from me as I had run a lint roller over every square inch of myself before coming. And on top of all that I'd be erasing the guards' memories of anything to do with me coming here, having them erase the footage of me from when I first came in, and then of the memories of me leaving with my new friends in tow.

For all they would know, when they finally came down here to do their rounds, three prisoners would somehow manage to have escaped with the help of an unknown assailant. Which I was fine with, because in no way that I know of does this lead back to me.

"Orca!? What-? Move outta the way! I can't shred that fucking perv apart with you standing there!" Frost cries out. Huh. Did they know each other? Were they friends? She called her Orca, though. But then again so did I when strangers were around. Hopefully they were, because a foot in the door is what we need with her right about now.

Also, there's no need for name calling! "Hey! _I_ _am not_ into whatever it is you're thinking right now! If I'd known you were…handling your business I would've knocked first, alright!? The last thing that I would get my rocks off to is the sight of a woman sitting on the toilet! That's just not my thing!" I call out from behind Grace.

"I promise, Frost." Orca tries to placate the irate ice woman. "He didn't come here to do anything more than to offer you a job. One that you'll _really_ want to hear him out about. But he needs to be in one piece in order for that to happen. Okay?"

A moment of silence passes.

Maybe Grace got through to-_oh shit no she's still very pissed!_ "C'mere, asshole!" A frozen visage of rage now fully-clothed in her asylum uniform vaults over Grace and sprints at me full speed. Grace is helpless to do much of anything to help as she isn't built for speed and agility so much as she is for overwhelming strength and endurance.

Despite my surprise at how fast she is, though not at all fast enough for me to have trouble keeping track of, I don't do anything as she moves in for what is most definitely a killing blow. What else could the giant and crazy sharp looking ice-spears that were now her arms be for? Especially when they're aimed at my face.

Much to _her_ surprise, and Grace's if the way both of their eyes widen and Grace's jaw physically drops, both shatter upon impact. The only mark that they even touched me being the bit of peeled skin, at where the tip of each spear had managed to do a tiny amount of damage.

It was akin to when you scrape your knee but not enough to completely break through the skin. Just enough to peel back some layers of skin. Still kind of stung, though. But either way, FUCK YEAH FOR SUPERHUMAN CONSTITUTION!

When that doesn't work, she lunges for me, grabbing hold of my face. I can feel her trying to absorb my body heat, but the rate at which she's absorbing is negligible when my ultimate healing factor kicks in four times as fast.

It seems I might be better at heling than even Logan was. _Sweet_.

Stunned, "How-" she barely gets a word out before I grab her wrists and bring them together in front of her, locking her feet in place with my mind as she begins to twist and turn and _try_ to kick at me in defiance.

"_Hey!_" She halts her resistance, for the most part, at my firm tone, making me halt in turn. She's scared of me. I can see it in her eyes. Her stabbing me in the face with a spear didn't work at all, neither did draining me, she can't move to escape no matter how hard she struggles, and she knows I have enough strength to end her life right then and there if I chose.

"Look,_ my bad_. I shouldn't have just barged in like I did. I'm sorry." I speak gently, it honestly makes me feel super fucking guilty to just up and terrify someone like this. I hadn't really expected that _I _could make someone scared when I'm usually the jumpy one at the thought of freaking Batman! The one without any actual superpowers.

So far, all the reception that I've directly received from people is gratitude, respect, and awe. But never fear.

"All I wanted to do was come and offer you a job. Not to bust down your door to take a peek and not to scare you half to death like I'm doing right now." The fear in her eyes turns partly to indignation and denial, but I don't play that awkward kiddy shit where people avoid talking about what I find uncomfortable. Nor do I tolerate it in others.

"Oh, knock it off!" She flinches. "Look at you, you're totally at my mercy right now. Being scared is par the course of fighting someone who's leagues above you."

"Real humble of you, boss." Grace comments helpfully. And by that, I mean _sarcastically_.

"What? It's true isn't it? Both of you are quite incapable of being able to do me any real damage. I'd wipe the floor with you both at any given time." At that, Grace barks out a laugh.

"You think you could survive a full on fight against _me_? I'd tear you to pieces! So what if you're touch enough to handle a few ice cubes getting thrown your way!? I wouldn't need to do much more than hit you once and you'd be down for the count."

I roll my eyes. "You wouldn't even _touch_ _me_! I'd have you on your back faster than you could say _anything_. Because by the time you'd open your big mouth, I'd have already won!" My competitive side can't handle challenges I _know _I'd win. And against her? I would _dominate_.

Grace opens her mouth to retort but cuts herself off with a sort of choking noise. Guess I won. Take that you loser! Ha!

Pushing it past her loss, though, she grunts and turns her head to the side. A nastily smug smirk appearing on her face. "Whatever you say, _Magic Man_." And does her level best to not hide her thoroughly entertained snickers at all.

"Wait…" Motherfucker. She got me. "Your name's _Magic Man!?_" And thus, I now have not just one, but _two_ women laughing at me.

Is it too late to just put them back where I found them?

A good five minutes later, five rather hurtful minutes of hysterical laughing, Killer Frost calms down enough to speak coherently. Well, she's forced to calm herself down as I sink my fingers into the concrete and create large fissures that travel down t the floor and up across the ceiling. It seems I'll be doing this often, then.

"Oh, man. That's _just _what I needed. Hah~" She clears her throat. "So, you were saying something about a job earlier? Though, if it's to be your henchwoman, not interested. And definitely not if I need to wear some kind of uniform. That includes a suit." She speaks with finality, and faint disgust about the non-existent suit she refuses to wear. I knew suits had a bad stigma attached to them.

Amanda Waller, you bitch.

Seeing that she's no longer trying to get away, I let go of her. But watch her carefully as she rubs her wrists.

"No uniforms, I promise. You can wear just about anything you like. Though, at least try to dress sensibly. Nothing goofy, if you can manage it. But the job itself is fairly simple. Orca here is already…ORCA SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY!" I causally move on. "I'm gathering people in an attempt to create a serum to partially suppress the array of mutations that so many of us are suffering from."

She quirks an eyebrow, not liking what she thinks I'm going for. "You mean you want to take away our powers. If that's the case, then no can do. I'm not interested in losing what little I have left."

I chuckle. "You're misunderstanding me. I don't want to take them away. No, not at all." I turn to Grace. "In fact, if you could somehow find a way to enhance a person's mutated abilities, make them more powerful than they originally started out, then that _would_ be a welcome bonus." I look back to Frost. "Orca is working on the biology side of things. She'll handle the genetics and whatever else it is she's good at. I'm _hoping _that you'll be able to use your talents to keep us and our equipment up and running. If I'm not mistaken, you were working for S.T.A.R. Labs, before your mutation, as a specialist. A brilliant technician and engineer for their energy-related experiments and equipment."

She nods, smirking a little at the compliment, taking it all in. "What I'm actually trying to accomplish is making it so that people like you and Orca have total control over yourselves. Over your bodies, rather than simply being at their altered mercies."

Her brows furrow. "I'm talking about no more blue skin or white hair 24/7." I look to Grace. "No more constantly living as a Orca-Human Hybrid." Back to Frost. "No more needing to absorb the body heat of people on a daily basis, if at all, to live without going insane from the insatiable need for warmth. You'd be able to turn your abilities on and off at your leisure."

She thinks about it for a few moments, pacing back and forth in front of me, muttering under her breath about the pros and cons of signing up with a stranger and someone she only barely knows, and through a life of crime at that, all the while nodding with increasing confidence. "Okay. _Okay_. That _sounds_ all well and good. Just one last question about this little mission of yours."

"Shoot." I was an open book.

"How long?" I give her a questioning look. "How long would you need, how long would I have to wait, before you could begin human trials? Before there's any _significant _progress in… Because if you're not fuckin' around about this and you _better not be fuckin' around_…then I am in _one hundred percent_." I sense she's not finished, if her body language is anything to go by, so I simply wait for her to be.

She raises her hands so that she's looking at them, rather sadly. "It's been two years, six months, and eleven days since those H.I.V.E. assholes turned me into _this_. It's hard not to count the days when every day is a literal frozen Hell on Earth. Those _fucks_! I used to have such beautiful…everything. And now I'm blue. _Blue! _I mean for fuck's sake it's not even my favorite color, you know?" She finishes weakly.

"And not to mention Dr. Lincoln." Oh, so she _is_ Caitlin Snow. I honestly didn't know up until now. Well, at least I can start calling her Caitlin instead of Frost. Well, if she's okay with it, I mean. …ah, fuck it. I'll just call whoever whatever until someone says not to. Being nice about names is…tiresome…even after just the one time with Grace.

"I mean, there isn't a doubt in my fuckin' mind that she died for the same reason I almost did." It seems she's venting more than she is explaining. Maybe something about being hopeful for the time in years makes her wanna follow a cliché where she spills her guts to us and then we all become buddy-buddy. Which reminds me, this is some pretty heavy shit to talk about for a first meeting between strangers, if I'm honest. But whatever. As long as she ends up joining up afterwards, then she can vent and explain her heart out for all I care.

She goes silent again, before sniffing and letting out a stressed sigh. Scratching the back of her head, "…so, yeah. I'm in. Besides, even if you're being a complete fuckwad and lying to us, which would be the absolute dick-est of moves you could pull, at the very least I can get out of this shithole before I really _do _lose my mind. I mean, look who my neighbor is for Fuck's sake. All _they_ do is whine and complain about her precious plants while I'm over here wasting away just the same and sucking it up nonetheless."

Grace and I turn to where Caitlin is pointing, the door behind me. "Plants? Who's in there?" Grace asks ith mounting suspicion.

Caitlin shakes her head. "Poison Ivy." My eyes bug out of my head, even though I already had a strong hit at the mention of plants, not really having expected her to be so close by. The guard I had asked had said that their two cells were close by to one another, not literally only _twenty_ _feet_ _away from each other!_

"Oh," I chirp. "how convenient." I walk up to the door, noticing nothing other than an electronic lock on it, and knock. Doing my best to ignore Caitlin's protest as I think about other things. Such as how it seems she and Pamela weren't the best of friends. And that the plant-woman was probably kept in the dark, away from both soil and probably as much water as possible besides the amount needed to survive. She needs to be freed now or she might actually die. Did they not understand that her body _needed _nature to keep functioning normally? Fucking seriously, Arkham doctors?

For someone so ingrained into nature, to be without it for so long must be worse than even Caitlin's constant state of mild heat starvation. "Pamela Isley? Can you hear me okay in there? I was hoping to speak with you about a job I think you'd be interested in. You see-"

…I heard everything you said earlier." Interrupting me. "…I don't need to hear it again …consider me hired on _one condition_…" She spoke with an exhausted grin I didn't have to see to know was there. Actually, she sounded really weak. Like, having a hard time breathing, weak.

"…I want you to _say_ _it_…one more time…" I blink in confusion, turning to face the two behind me only to see them fighting grins. Well, Grace is _sort of _trying. Caitlin on the other hand is not at all hiding her shit eating grin.

Fucking bitches…they will pay for their crimes later, however.

I resign myself to the fact that I will never be able to move past this humiliating name, because that _is _what she wants to hear (I just goddamn know it!) and turn back to the door. Waiting for all of a second before wrenching it away from its frame and hurling it to the two idiots behind me. Not at full strength because they'd probably die or be seriously maimed—man, why am I afraid of Batman if I can kick Grace's ass again?—but enough to leave them scrambling to avoid it.

"Magic Man, okay!?" I step into the dark of the cell and pick her up carefully, as she's lying on the ground curled up into a ball, despite my harsh response. I don't worry about her trying to control me, yet anyway, as my Superhuman Constitution enhanced immune system works through foreign agents almost as fast as my healing factor works through whatever _tries _to fuck me up _externally_.

"My name is fucking _Magic_ _Man_!" I walk back into the light of the hallway, the annoyance immediately gone as I look down at the three women who've just joined me on my quest to un-fuck this world and its people from some of their many, many issues. At least I wasn't alone in this. And hopefully Pamela's not just lying outright about wanting to join up, but we'll cross that bridge of possible betrayal when we got there.

The woman in question places an exploring hand on my chest, or rather through the gap between my dress shirt's buttons, humming contently at the feeling of something other than the cold inorganic metal of her cage. Namely, me.

"And what a _wonderful _name it is~" A delirious looking pair of green eyes stare up at me in unbidden glee. Whether it was because of her newfound freedom or because such a devastatingly handsome man was holding her, I could be sure.

Probably the latter, though. It's only natural with loks as good as mine, of course.

Still, for real, I don't have a clue of what she's planning, even after watching her with all the observational power I could put together. Oh, well. I'll find out sooner or later, I guess.

…wait, fuck finding out _sooner_ or _later_! I wanna know _now_!

"Well," I speak as I dive into her mind, being careful to only look at the surface thoughts. Anything further and who knows what damage I might do to the already fragile woman. "at least one of us thinks so."

It takes a few seconds, but I find what I'm looking for.

…oh my, so _that's _how she's playing it…

Interesting. _Very_ interesting.


	5. Chapter 5

_Hey!_

_Enjoy the chapter! Leave a review! I'll see you next chapter!_

_Bye~_

"Bye guys!" I wave to the guards as the four of us walk past them. Well, three of us are walking. Pamela isn't strong enough yet. Or, at least that's what I tell myself. I won't lie, it was weird to have her hand in my shirt for the first few minutes, but now I've kind of gotten used to it? Thank God I don't have any shame because I'd be having severe anxiety issues right about now if I did.

"You won't remember me or anything else about tonight, but that's okay. I won't forget _you_!" With a nod to each of them, no point in being a dick even if they don't remember, the gates of Arkham close behind us with a loud clang.

Funny, all of this happened within the span of two hours and it feels like the night's already over. Except that it's only, like, nine.

The four of us, _three_, stand in place for a second, as the ladies take in the night air. Spreading out a bit to also take in their newfound freedom, which isn't nearly as comfortable as the air conditioned asylum we just left. "Okay. So, where to first? Somewhere to eat, hopefully? I could go for a burger right about now." I look down at the plant woman, her being the one closest to me. "Do you even eat meat? Or is it plants you don't eat?" I was betting on the former of the two.

Nothing from my years of reading and watching her, far less creepy than it sounds given context, sheds any light on that train of thought. "I can go for either." She provides.

"Oh? Huh." I start nodding at the revelation.

She raises an eyebrow, amused. "What, did you expect me to go all ranting vegan on you? I may feel passionately about plants and think they're far superior to all other forms of life, but a girl's got to eat, you know."

I tilt my head to the side as I shrug. "Honestly? Kinda. I figure if you'd kill people to protect plants, you'd avoid eating them."

She chuckles. "Eating plants because your body needs nutrients to survive is one thing, I'll even accept that useful medicines come out of plants, but killing them at every corner solely to earn a profit?" Her voice turns solemn. "No. Unforgiveable. If anyone should die for another's benefit, it's people."

Smiling, "I wholeheartedly agree." Even wider so at her surprised expression. "Humans, as well as most other sentient life to ever have walked on this planet, have been slowly killing plants and animals off for tens of thousands of years. The more "progress" we achieve, the less time the Earth has until it dies from our careless mistakes. As we speak, plants and animals all over the world go extinct directly and indirectly because of us. Our only saving grace at this point is that we recognize the problem we pose." My smile sours. "But even then, those handful of people actually able to do anything and who care enough to try, with minimal effect from both moral and legal limitations, are like a drop in the ocean. A very polluted ocean of our own making." I add wryly. "In an ideal world, humans are gone and only the innocent plant-life we can't hurt are left."

"…_exactly_." She whispers, eyes wide as she hangs off my every word. I guess it's nice for her to finally hear someone else say what she's always thinking about in a way that isn't simply agreeing for the sake of agreeing to get out of the conversation.

Not too many people take the concerns of a supervillain, who could willingly help save the world under the right circumstances, like Pamela as seriously as they should. As _I_ do.

"However," I add, ignoring the weirded out stares I'm getting from Grace and Caitlin. "we don't live in an ideal world. And at this point, we _can't_. Not yet, anyway, because we need these people. We'll need them for years to come." Her brows furrow.

"What do you mean?" The delight in her eyes giving way to confusion. "You just said it yourself. Humans need to die so that the Earth can live."

I shake my head. "No, I said that in an ideal world, _humans are gone._ There's a difference, Pamela, between killing off every last Human and getting rid of them. But even before _that_, what you fail to understand is that we _can't _go and make people vanish from the face of the planet."

She looks up angrily, as if her momentary expectations for me have been betrayed. "And _why_ is that?"

My bright smile returns, having skimmed her thoughts and realizing how close I was. She's a whirlwind of emotions right now, her body still severely weakened from her isolation and her mind not in much better shape. The perfect time to mold her train of thought to a more productive stance. The last thing I need is her to try and use my plans to fuck the Human race over as soon as my back is turned; just as she planned with what little she already knew about what I aim to do.

"Because without people, who would keep the things we built from falling apart? Who would ensure that the nuclear armaments and powerplants we have wouldn't suddenly go off and create a radioactive hell on Earth? Who would stop the countless bits of man-made debris in our orbit as they fall back to the Earth at devastating speeds? Who would take care of all the damage that would be done in our absence?"

I raise her in my arms so that we're practically nose to nose. "You? All by yourself? The plants? I doubt it. Humans, as much as they are destroying this planet, are the only things keeping it from falling apart. Killing them is tantamount to killing the Earth." I stare unflinchingly into her eyes, engaging in a battle of wills and ideals, until she tiredly and awkwardly blinks and looks away in defeat.

Internally, I'm thinking '_Fuuuck am I awesome! Woo!_'

Externally, I let out a victorious hum and begin walking to the side of the road, where the forest surrounding Arkham borders the paved path. Putting Pamela down on a patch of grass, which she immediately begins to fondle in an effort to seek comfort from her defeat. And yes, I do mean _fondle_. "Which is part of the reason why finding a way to enhance the powers of superhumans is only Phase I of my plan."

"Wait, Phase I?" Orca asks. "How many phases are there? And why didn't you tell us this before you let us out? If I had known this was going to be a multi-part thing…well, I don't know what I would've done. But I would've wanted to know first. _Before_ I agreed."

"Yeah." Caitlin agrees, her face screwing up into mistrust. "If you're building an army or something like that to wage war against the world, I'm out. I'm not a soldier, I'm a _scientist_ and I don't like being used for wars I don't believe in. Giving me my looks back is one thing, I'll stick around until then, but if you're looking to pick fights like I think you are for what you were just going on about…" She shrugs and leaves it at that.

I sigh at having given them the wrong impression. It seems convincing Pamela to stick with the program is going to be a one on one thing from now on. "No no no!" I gesture at them placatingly. "I'm not building an army or anything, I swear!" I cringe internally at the thought. That would paint a massive target on my back attracting the likes of Superman and Batman and, heaven forbid, Wonder Woman.

Seriously, I saw what she did to Cyborg, who she thought was Cheetah, during their fight in Justice League: Doom. And I'm not interested in fighting someone who considers ripping the arm off of another person before she considers holding them deep underwater until they lose consciousness or flying them high enough for the thin air to do the same and then a whole slew of possible alternatives afterwards. Seriously, she could've taken Cheetah down a million different ways.

Superman would only use lethal means as an absolute last resort. I'm talking Apocalypse-level last resort. Batman wouldn't _try _to permanently maim or kill me on purpose, at the very least. But Wonder Woman was the more violent of the three. And much more so towards the beginning of her hero career.

Fuck my life if I end up fighting any of them. Never mind about whatever bullshit I said earlier, Batman's still just as terrifying as I've been picturing him. All of them are.

I rub the back of my neck, trying to explain it. "A year and a half ago, Phase I was originally supposed to be all there was. To give supers like you all" I gesture to them. "better control of your powers so you could lead much less spiraling out of control lives should you desire it. Maybe even help those with more volatile powers suppress or get rid of them altogether. Granted, there were some kinks to be worked out. Like how you'd possibly use your newfound enhancements to sink deeper into a life of bloody and violent crimes. But what the hell, I thought, it was a problem for later down the line. I was sure I'd think of something"

I move to stand in a spot where all three are in my line of sight. "Well, I did. And it's all thanks to you three. Well, several others included but they're not here right now."

"What do you mean it's thanks to us?" Pamela asks with a much stronger sounding voice, her attention momentarily diverted away from the flower she's been silently cooing at in her hand. "We've never met or heard of you before today. At least, I haven't."

Grace shakes her head, followed by Caitlin. "I like to take nightly strolls." Three sets of eyes narrow. "And _no_, not a nightly stroll of the vigilante variety. Not actively, anyway. But if I see someone trying to rape another someone" I'm not naming genders becasue men can get it forced upon them too, you know? Something I'd never thought I'd personally witness with my own two eyes, but it _is_ Gotham, so… "in an alley or if I hear gunshots from a botched robbery nearby, I'll maybe put my talents to use if I feel its warranted."

I clear my throat. "Anyway, sometimes I come across Batman fighting one of you. The Penguin or the Joker, he is _not _invited to this by the way so don't even _think_ of letting it slip. The dude is-"

"Insane?"

"Fucked in the head?"

"An abusive dickhole who should die in a fire?"

Ah, so the lesbian thing with Harley is going strong, then? Sweet. And not just because I enjoy the thought of them boning, though it certainly is something to think about late at night. But because the Joker doesn't deserve Harley. Not in the slightest and not nearly as much as Pamela does.

And yes, when the time comes, Joker dies and Batman can go fuck himself. Because honestly, fuck letting him live long enough to pull any of his fucked up schemes on _Superman _of all people. Injustice: Gods Among Us is _not _going to be happening in this dimension, thank you very much. And definitely not on my watch. I'll strangle the lunatic to death before I let that happen.

"All of the above. So, we're agreed on that?" Three simultaneous head nods have me smiling.

"Good. Anyway, I come across your fights and sometimes I listen in long enough to hear you talking to each other and to see you using your powers in ways that send my mind reeling with possibilities. Thus, Phase II is born."

"But what _is _Phase II?" Caitlin presses.

"Phase II is using your enhanced powers to buy time." They look at me with varying levels of confusion. "Fossil fuels are running out, the Earth is heating up more and more, the ice caps are melting, weather phenomena like storms tsunamis and earthquakes and tornadoes and hurricanes and floods and whatnot are getting worse and worse with each passing day, and we are doing nothing but watching as the world burns around us. We won't last for much longer at the rate we're going. We have maybe half a century, a little less to be honest, before things go from bad to fucked and we all end up living on a planet with more people than resources and a temperature that will force us to move further inland as the sea level rises."

I go on, silently lamenting how my desire to have fun and do cool shit with these superpowered allies of mine, have to think of a decent name 'cause I'm never using that lame description again, has turned into a crusade that I'll have to see through to the end. Fuck my long lifespan pushing me to do this. I mean I'd have probably done it anyway, but now there's an urgency I don't need on my head. "I'm selfish. I'll admit this. In helping you, I'm really just helping myself. Because I'm going to live for a long time, possibly centuries, and I honestly don't want to be an old man in a very shitty situation that could have and _should have _been fixed when it wasn't too late. I'd like to enjoy my twilight years, you know?"

Grace is the first to recover. "So, putting aside for later the fact that you have a reason to believe you'll be alive hundreds of years from now, you're doing this because you don't want to watch the Earth turn into a cesspool of our own filth?" I nod. "And to stop that, you need our powers stronger than they currently are, coincidentally to our benefit, so we can get the ball rolling?"

"Yeah. The idea is to have each of you work towards regressing the severity a specific major problem we're currently facing. Originally, I came to Arkham hoping to get through my entire list in one fell swoop, I have an actual list in my pocket, but so far it's only you three." I gesture towards Gotham's general direction. "The others are either on the run or somewhere away from Gotham."

"Who else is on this list?" Pamela asks. "And what would each of us be doing? It's obvious as to which category we're in charge of based on our powers, but specifically?"

"In order?" I ask rhetorically. "Right now the list is you three, Victor Fries but he's known to just about everyone as Mr. Freeze, Oswald Kapelput except you know him as Oswald Cobblepot but judging by the blank looks on your faces it seems you only know him as the Penguin, Harvey Dent more commonly known as Two Face, Bane, Catwoman, Deadshot, and the Phantasm."

I finish tallying the names with my fingers. "As for what your roles-"

"Who's the Phantasm, again? I think I know the rest, somewhat from what I've overheard when the guards are talking, except I don't think I've heard of that last one." Caitlin cuts in.

Grace stifles a yawn, rubbing the blur out of her eyes. "Yeah, I don't _think_ I know anyone called the Phantasm?"

"No, wait, I know who he's talking about. The Phantasm. Specter looking creep with the metal hook for a hand, right? It was two or three years ago, remember? Went on a killing spree and all those old mob bosses died. And then he just disappeared." Pamela filled in the gap.

"You know, I must've still been at the research station when that went down, because I don't remember any of that." Caitlin works out.

"Now that you mention it, I do sort of recall hearing about the mob thing. But I could've sworn they chalked it up to old rivalries and grudges assuring mutual destruction." Pamela shakes her head at Grace.

"Nope. That was just so people wouldn't think that there was _another _costumed villain running around Gotham."

I clear my throat. "Ladies, I'm glad you've pieced together the mystery of the Phantasm, but the night is not getting any younger and we still have places we need to go, people we need to see, and a certain Batman to avoid on our way to get to them." Namely we were on our way to see the Penguin.

A spur of the moment decision, really. But what better time than tonight. If Batman sticks to his schedule, then he'll still be patrolling on the other side of Gotham for a few more hours. More than enough time to go eat and then stop by the Iceberg Lounge for a quick visit.

"Frost, I was thinking that you would work in tandem with Mr. Freeze. If we could somehow get you to be able to take substantial amounts of heat from the sky and the waters surrounding the ice caps and _then_ have Mr. Freeze work towards rebuilding the icebergs themselves with some sort of massive freeze ray, we'd hopefully set back global warming and its consequences a few years. A few decades hopefully. It all really depends on how much we can restore."

I turn to Pamela, "I'm hoping that we can use _your_ powers to visit and revitalize the different parts of the world where the natural plant-life is slowly being killed off. Places like the Amazon Rain Forest and the one hundred and sixty-eight countries where desertification isn't allowing plant-life to grow and flourish as it should. Whether it's from overgrazing or urban development. And even places that don't originally have a significant amount of green." I take a breath.

"If we can cover a large enough portion of the world in plants, who take in our Carbon Dioxide emissions and give us back oxygen in return, our love of fossil fuel powered everything will have a much more tolerable impact on the environment. I'm aiming to start with the countries in need of some green first, and then hitting major cities. Major cities being amongst the highest in recorded amounts of emissions released."

"Orca, your role has less to do with reversing a detriment to the Earth and more to do with creating the means with which to do it." I gesture to Pamela and Caitlin. "In addition to that, there's something else I want you to do. But that'll come later. For now, just focusing on the biology and genetic issues is enough. Any other questions for me?"

"Your powers. You know ours, obviously. But what are yours?" Pamela asks.

I scratch my chin. "I have several. For one, I'm, for the most part, superhuman. Faster, stronger, smarter, tougher, etc. Uh, I'm able to heal injuries and sicknesses with a single touch; it's how I've earned my name." Three mouths open to ask the obvious question. But I shut them down quick. "Though, I'm not going to do so for your mutations. It would rob you of the chance for the best of both worlds and rob the world of its best chance to see the next century as healthy as it was this past century. Which still isn't very healthy at all. But that's better than the alternative."

I go to say more but I'm cut off by Caitlin, who bursts out her question, having been dying to know since we fought. "So, your superhuman abilities was what prevented me from skewering you, yeah? Was that what also stopped me from draining you of your body heat?"

Shaking my head, "No. You could try doing what you did for a lot longer, but I doubt you'd do any substantial damage." And if that was the case… "In fact," I hold out my arm. "Go on, try it. We might as well see what the limits are, since you'll be taking most of what you need to live from me."

She raises a brow, but walks towards me, nonetheless. She tries to school her expression, but I can sense the insecurity. "Yep, you heard me. While you're working for me, there'll be no more draining people to death. Not only is it extremely likely to catch Batman's attention, which we can't afford right now" I look her in the eye as she takes my hand. "but I can't imagine you enjoy having to kill people just to live. This way, at least, you'll be spared that particular burden."

She starts to drain my body heat from me, but again, it's effects negligible in the face of my healing factor. Her eyes close and her head tilts back in satisfaction. Regardless of how fucked up it is, her doing this to people must feel good as it's literally restoring her to full health.

While that's going on, I explain my healing factor. "My body's healing factor is what's going to keep me alive, by the way. And as for anything else I have power-wise, stick around for a while if you really want to know. You'll find out soon enough. Promise."

I hold back smirk as the other two women look at each other before shrugging and looking back to me with nods.

"Now then, once Frost here is done with—hey do you mind if I just call you Caitlin? 'Frost' just seems so impersonal. We're practically friends now. Same with you, Ivy, Is Pamela okay?—her feeding…session(?) I say we take this party over to a diner. I'm feeling like a burger and fries right about now. Sound good?"

Yes, things were really starting to come together. Now if I could only come up with a plan on how to rope Oswald into my corner. I wonder if I'm going to be dealing with crazy, raw fish eating Penguin or high-class wannabe Penguin.

Then again, they might unfortunately be one and the same.


	6. Chapter 6

_Hello everyone!_

_I'm back with another chapter of the story that is much more popular than I thought it'd be. Which is a pleasant surprise! I hope you're all doing okay and that you continue to leave me all those nice reviews I've been getting._

_I mean, there are some on occassion that have complaints about MM being emo(?) and whiny and whatnot, but I don't think that's the case. And if I you feel that I am writing info-dump chapters, I would like to to just say that I'm not dumping info, not intentionally anyway, but I'm giving context as to why MM does what he does through conversations and dialougue in equal parts to him thinking things to himself._

_If you think I'm doing a shit job with it, I'm sorry. But send me a PM or leave a review telling me_ how_I could improve on that instead of just leaving your feelings about it vague and pointless in the review section._ Constructive_criticism, despite how tough it is for me to swallow sometimes,_ is and always will be_helpful and appreciated._

_Anyway, thanks for sticking with the story. I hope you enjoy the read and I'll see you all in the next chapter!_

_Bye~_

Thank God I have telekinesis as one of my powers, because that meant I didn't have to worry about finding a car or truck big enough to hold Grace. Instead, I floated us, perhaps levitated is a better word since it sounds much cooler, us all to where we wanted to go. Namely, a diner that I like to frequent from time to time.

It's not something I can do without strain after an extended period of time, however, when I'm taking a collective weight of over a thousand pounds, maybe more if Grace weighs more than the three hundred and fifty pounds, I'm guessing she does. Thankfully, it was only maybe a ten minute trip.

If it was anything longer than an hour or two, maybe three if I'm really pushing myself, I'd be sporting a splitting migraine. And maybe a bloody nose.

…man, I think I'm underestimating just how impressive I actually am. I really do need to work on that…

On a pleasant note, the girls all love being in the clouds. So, I was only slightly worried about any fear of heights for nothing, thankfully. Caitlin enjoyed sucking up the cold night air, Grace liked the moisture of the clouds I passed her through on her skin, and Pamela relished in breathing in the relatively cleaner air that she doesn't get to experience very often in Gotham.

We land in the parking lot of one of those diners that doesn't have an actual name. Just a sign written in cursive and in blue neon lights that spells out the word 'Diner' on the sides facing the street. It wasn't that long of a flight, thankfully, as there was no significant traffic up in the air. An occasional flock of birds and a plane, but those were both easily avoidable.

"Probably should've asked this earlier," Grace starts. "but how are we just going to go in and get food without everyone freaking out."

I smirk. "Easy. Just follow me and be impressed at my awesomeness." Without another word, I turned and lead them through the front door. They traded doubtful looks with each other but shrugged and followed me anyway. I hadn't given them reason to doubt me yet.

Not that I knew of, anyway.

Walking in, more like crouching in for a certain Orca-Human hybrid, we instantly became the center of attention. All movement and conversation came to a screeching halt. One woman even shot to her feet as soon as her gaze landed on Grace and opened her mouth to scream.

"**Stop.**" Her scream died in her throat, coming out as a strained choke. I made sure to look at every single one of the men, women, and children staring at us. "**All of you, leave. Go find another diner to eat at. And say nothing about us to anyone. In fact, forget we were ever here.**"

All of them got to their feet and began filing out in a straight line. While they walked past the stunned ladies behind me, I turned my attention to the staff. "**Everyone who isn't a chef for the diner, leave now, go home, have a pleasant night, and forget we were ever here as well. Those of you who are chefs, start cooking. You're to make us everything that's on the menu. Use all of your best ingredients. After that, you may go home and forget about us as well. Get to work.**" The staff immediately starts following my orders.

God, I love my bastardized version of the Jed Mind Trick.

As the last waiter leaves, but not before locking any secondary exits the place may have, after I'd found him fearfully hiding in the women's bathroom _attempting_ to call 911 on his cellphone, I flip the 'Come on in, we're open!' sign over to 'Sorry, we're closed!'. Pointedly ignoring the incredulous looks of 'what the fuck was that!?' I'm getting, I move to close the blinds.

"Magic Man?" Caitlin asks, and for once it's without the snark or amusement. Just straight up confusion and awe. "What the hell did you just do to them? I mean, seriously what the _fuck _was that?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I like to think of it as my attempt at the Jedi Mind Trick." The first plate of food gets placed on the table nearest me. I pick up a chicken tender and begin dipping it in something that could either be barbeque sauce or ketchup, I'm honestly not sure. "Oh, but don't worry." I bite into it. Definitely barbeque sauce. Neat. "I have never and will never use it on you." Unless you try to fuck me over and it's absolutely necessary. "I promise." Smiling, I wave the half-eaten tender at them, before continuing to munch away at the rest. "Friends don't control friends with their minds like that. And as far as I'm concerned, you're the closest things I have to actual friends right now. So…yeah. What do you think?"

I pick up another tender, dipping it in some sauce and into it as I watch them process the extent of my powers so far. Peering into their surface thoughts, I know there's fear of it happening to them, to be sure, but none of it overwhelming enough to warrant them actually voicing their concerns. They would be keeping an eye on me, however.

Not that I expected them to do any less.

"_Never_ use that on us. Try it, and you die. I don't care how tough, or supposedly immortal, or whatever, you are…we'll find a way." Grace is the one who voices the thoughts of the three of them. Surprising me, as I thought that it would definitely be either Pamela or Caitlin, both nodding at Grace's demand. "Promise us. Right here and now."

I give them all a serious look and gentle nod. "Of course. I promise that I would _never_ do that to you." Again, unless I really, really have to because you've gone traitor or some other fucked up stab-in-the-back shit on me. "Besides, it's why I showed you in the first place. You had the right to know. Had you found out that I could do that later on down the line, any trust built between us would be irreversibly broken or revoked at the prospect that I could be doing untold things to your minds without you ever suspecting it was me."

They send me more questioning and contemplative looks, to which I shrug. "You three should also come up with a way to make sure nothing like that ever happens, though. Something _smart_ that I don't know about but you do collectively, but then another secret method that only _you_ individually know about. Perhaps a record of some kind? But again, don't tell me. Safer that way." I smile.

It was only right they knew, after all. _I _would want to know if someone I knew _could_ be doing mind shit to me. I've read Super Human by Michael Owen Carroll (Part of an actual real-life book series), and it only affirms my concerns and paranoia of superpower abuse. I'm really trying to make friends with these women, and I won't let some drama bullshit ruin what a great time we could have together.

Besides, I know me. Pushed far enough…given enough reason to do so…having a vetted interest in a certain self-serving and favorable outcome that outshines anything I currently have…I'm capable of ruining lives. Just ask my ex-girlfriend. During visiting hours, of course.

At least this way, they might have a chance of stopping me if that day should ever come.

An hour after we've moved past my reveal stunt, they didn't say much about it but I could tell that it was and still is a major concern for them, we're having a pretty fun time talking and shooting the shit with each other. The good food really helps in keeping the mood positive. Thankfully, there was enough for everyone. And with four large appetites directly linked to us having superpowers, that was a blessing and a miracle rolled into one.

"Are you fucking kidding me? How in the hell is that even possible!?" I ask incredulously. "No, no! I mean, seriously, Caitlin how have you never heard of the Beatles? " I take a dip a french fry in barbecue sauce, not taking my judgmental eyes off her even once as I bring it to my mouth.

The blue-skinned woman shrugs her shoulders defensively. "I've _heard_ _of_ _them_, sure, but I just never got around to listening to any of their songs."

Pamela finishes swallowing the last bite of her, mostly bacon bits covered, salad. "Yeah, still, there's honestly no excuse for it."

I gesture to the plant woman furiously. "See? Even Pamela agrees with me, as much as she too disappoints me." That has the woman in question looking at me with a raised brow.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I scoff at her question.

"You think I haven't forgotten the fact that you told me not five minutes ago that you've never watched The Princess Bride. The 1987 classic that _everyone _should have watched and cherished from beginning to end." I add solemnly. "And by "end" I do mean until the day they die."

Both of them roll their eyes at me.

You know," I take a bit of my burger and quickly swallow, so as to preach my point. "I can understand if you saw it and didn't like it. Hey," I raise my hands. "maybe it's not everyone's cup of tea and, _that_, I can possibly forgive after some much-deserved groveling. But to never have even _heard_ of it before now? _That _is what's _truly_ inconceivable."

Grace, who's been quietly drinking from one of the jugs of water I had to go get for her at a nearby convenience store until now, lightly jerks her head to the side to avoid spit-taking all over us. "That's-" She wipes a tablecloth across her mouth and then the part of the table she didn't manage to avoid spewing on.

"Geeze, Orca. It was funny, but I didn't think it was _that_ funny." I get two blank stares and two handfuls of stolen fries for my trouble. "Hey!"

Caitlin goes to say something to refute me, unimpeded by the heatless glare I was leveling at her and her fellow fry-thief, when Grace interrupts. "That's not why I was surprised. _Look_." From our place in the middle of the empty diner, I'd given everyone except the chefs the mental command to leave, we could see the bank across the street though the large windows.

Specifically, we watched as Batman and Robin swung their way in through the bank windows to deal with whatever was going on inside. "Ah, _fuck."_ I helpfully commented, rather taken aback by my schedule of his nightly patrol being off the mark on the one night it really needed to not be.

Don't you fucking do this to me, Universe. I really don't want to deal with him yet if I absolutely don't have to.

"I thought you told us on the ride over that he wasn't going to _be here_! That he was going to be on the other side of the _fucking _city. It's why we went so far out of our way to eat at this shitty place!" I face Pamela as whispers harshly at me. Though, I would hardly call this diner shitty. The food here was pretty amazing, actually. But with that, none of us had the confidence to speak louder than a whisper. As if Batman might hear us if we didn't.

"I thought he wasn't! He _shouldn't_ be-" I cut myself off. That was…unless…ah, shit please no! "The only reason he would be coming here was if he either found out about your escape," At which none of us paled, but our postures did go more rigid. "or he's going after someone else. Who could be anyone from some random robber trying to pull a heist…"

I turn back to look out the window just in time to see the windows of the building across the street be blown outwards. Followed soon after by the familiar cackling laughter of the Joker. I sigh in frustration, more like groan in despair, despite internally being ecstatic that I was dealing with the version of the Joker that Mark Hamill had voiced.

Oh,_ fuckin' A_. Did that mean Batman was going to sound like Kevin Conroy? Oh, please, please, _please_. My life would be truly blessed if that was the case.

Anyway, there are significantly less, but still very important, matters at hand. "…or the Joker…"

Mixed reactions at his mention. Grace closed her eyes in misery, Caitlin widened her eyes in shock that the maniac was so close by, and there was only hate and loathing in Pamela's eyes. Both of which doubled down the moment we could hear Harley's taunting voice. "Awww! C'mon Bats! My Puddin's not gonna-_ahhhh_!"

A large hammer flies out from one of the smashed windows and lands in the street. Following shortly after it was a red and black figure that slammed quite painfully, and holy shit she got thrown out of a window like seven or eight stories up, into one of the parked cars, caving its roof in.

With my enhanced eyesight, I can see that there are several limbs not facing the right way. Not to mention the acid eating away at her clothes and skin and the blood starting to pool out under her and down the sides of the crushed car. Oh jeez. It's brutal and gory moments like this that remind me that this world isn't just a comic book or a cartoon anymore. This is real life.

And because of that little fact, Harley was probably going to die. If she wasn't dead already. Focusing my senses, I could tell she was still alive, but she wouldn't be for much longer

If I hadn't heard and felt them before I saw them, and if I hadn't seen the mounting horror and unshed tears, the vines that exploded out of the ground would have shocked the hell out of me. Unfortunately for Grace and Caitlin, they didn't have my senses. Not even Grace's animal senses could match what I have, I suppose.

The storefront of the diner is trampled by the torrent of vines and plants that carry Pamela over to where Harley is.

I maneuver myself through the gaps in the plants separating the three of us still in the diner. "Stay here." I tell them. "If any of the three of _them_" I gesture to where the fight between good and evil is taking place. "come out to the street, it's better that they not see you. Which shouldn't be an issue what with the sudden renovations taking out the diner's electricity."

Before they can say anything, I leave them to hide in the dark of the restaurant.

Making my way across the street in a light jog, I can smell something in the air. Probably acid, from whatever it was she got hit with. In my mind, I can already picture what probably happened. If events went by the usual Joker and Harley vs Batman and Robin routine, that is.

Robin being in the middle of recovering from his not yet finished fight with Harley, in which he gets his butt kicked in the first half, thus allows things to become a one versus two fight. Where somehow Batman and Harley go toe to toe before the Joker decides that her getting hit with his acid flower spray, or whatever it is he uses that holds acid, alongside Batman is acceptable collateral damage for sticking it to his archnemesis. Something Harley, unfortunately and rather sadly, thinks isn't gonna happen until it does. If what she said earlier, before being interrupted and thus proven wrong, is any indication.

When he tries it, somehow the cape that's held up only protects Batman, and _not _Harley, from getting hurt, and allows Batman to engage a reloading Joker. Harley, in the middle of screaming from her sudden acid spraying, isn't able to get away from the moving fight in time and ends up being more collateral damage. This time through her being thrown through a window like eight stories high and down into a car, where she now finds herself bleeding out.

As well as being cradled and cried on by a certain plant lover of hers, since by the time I got to them, Pamela had already started to use her plants to try and put pressure on the wounds that bled the most. Though, I do wonder if she's using regular vines, or if she's using plants with healing properties.

You know how in the movies, where something bad happens to a character in a relationship and their main love interest pets their hair and holds them in their arms and whisper-begs for them to live and whatnot? And how some of you might sit there and watch as the cliché, and frequently repeated throughout countless movies, scene plays out, internally mocking it and cringing at the same time because you either truly don't like it or because you can't handle the raw emotion the scene is supposed to make you feel? Well, it's not like that in real life.

Cringe-y and cliché, I mean.

When you see someone, even if it's someone you've only personally known for less than two hours, cradling someone else that they truly care about, and begging and pleading through snot and tears and just the most heart wrenching sobs you've ever heard, it's fucked up and sad and a whole slew of other things that honestly have me choking up just watching.

I mean, I know that Harley's going to live because of, well, _me_. But still, man, I really get it now and my appreciation for those scenes in movies has gone up a thousand-fold. The difference between seeing it on a screen and between _actors_, and experiencing it happen five feet away from you between two _people _is that in one of the two…someone's actually seconds away from dying and leaving the other person alone forever.

I suppose the other difference is that it takes an entire movie's worth of plot progression and character development for things to reach a dramatic head like this. For us, it took all three, maybe four, hours. And we've barely even gotten started.

I don't waste time talking or explaining, simply reaching out to the insane woman and telekinetically lifting her towards me as I walk towards her. Of course, Pamela is running high on devastation and heartbreak and does her best to have me ripped apart with her vines. None of which so much as touch me, an assortment of invisible hands holding each and every one in place.

As soon as I get within touching distance, Pamela's hand grabs onto my shoulder, her nails no doubt would've pierced my skin if it wasn't for how durable I now was. With a jerk, I allow her to turn me towards her specifically.

Her eyes, normally green in both the iris and the lightly shaded sclera, were tinted red from the tears and blinding grief that still hadn't stopped falling. Her voice was rough, working hard at restraining another sob as she tried to threaten me. "Don't you _fucking_-" But there isn't time for that. My hand moves forward, unimpeded even as she claws and pushes and shoves and wraps countless more freshly sprouted vines around me to pull me back.

The moment the tip of my middle finger touches Harley's forehead, the wounds begin closing. Slowly but surely, though that was only on the surface as I was working my Healing power overtime to get the internal injuries healed, her body was bringing itself back to its proper, original state. Even after I let go; leading to Pamela's desperate attempt to get my hand back to where it was before she noticed that her love's, I mean come on at this point it's fairly evident, still healing even without me.

The mind was left untouched, however, as I wasn't about to change anything fundamental about her without asking the woman first.

She looks up at me. "I need to…to get her…somewhere…" It hasn't really sunk in yet that I've all but saved Harley's life. I pull out a card with my information on it, yes I have business cards for my word-of-mouth business get over it, from my pants pocket. Along with a pen, which I use to scribble down an address on the back. "Here." I write down the address of one of the many safehouses I've made for myself all over the city, and deftly slide it into her hand so that none of Batman's scopes or whatever can get a good look at it. The one I've written down is a cabin on the farthest outskirts of Gotham. One I got expressly for Pamela, in case I managed to get her on the team.

"You should be safe there for a few days. It's got everything you need. I'll be by once I've gotten Caitlin and Orca settled. But I would check to make sure the Joker doesn't have a tracker on your girl-" She narrows her eyes, grateful indeed, but still as feisty as ever. "…on your _friend_." But she knows that I know. And that's all I care about.

"He's rather possessive of the things he considers his. And no doubt, _she_" I gesture to Harley. "is one of his most prized _possessions_." The disgust is palpable in my tone. "I'd go now, though. I don't hear anymore fighting. Joker either escaped or is tied up right about now. All that's left is just a cape flapping in the wind." And the feeling of an intense stare/glare crawling up the back of my neck.

Without hesitating, she wraps herself and Harley in her vines and takes off down the street full speed. Leaving me alone to face Batman. Caitlin and Grace, thankfully, stay hidden. If he hasn't caught sight of them yet, that means they're still in the clear until he checks in with Arkham and confirms they're gone.

Of course, it's not just Batman I'm going to be facing. With a thought, the Boy Wonder himself is pulled down from the rooftop, rather gently might I add, from his attempted pursuit of Pamela.

Can't have that, can we?

And still, in that same thought, if the aggressive as all hell way Batman lands a few feet away from me with _several_ sharp-looking Batarangs in hand is any indicator, I've just declared myself an enemy of the budding Bat Family.

Despite _all_ my arduous work to avoid this exact outcome.

So, there's only one thing I can really say that sums up _perfectly_ how I'm feeling right about now.

…I _fuckin'_ _hate you,_ Universe. I really, _really_ do.


	7. Chapter 7

_Hey guys!_

_I hope this being just a little longer than usual makes up for the month of waiting you had to do. I have to say, though, that this story is a lot more popular than I thought it would be. So, I just wanted to take a moment to thank you for the reviews, followers, and favorites that this story has in the time it's been out here._

_As always, enjoy the read and let me know what you thought about it in the reviews._

_And remember, leaving a review saying my story is absolute garbage isn't helpful. Tell my _why _it's absolute garbage. Explain your thoughts and I'll do my best to take them into consideration with what I have planned out. Seriously, I get these reviews that insult my work, but so very few of them actually manage to elaborate on why they feel this way or what I could be doing better._

_Anyways, I'll see you all in the next chapter!_

_Bye~_

"Robin, are you alright?" Batman asks, his eyes momentarily leaving me to quickly check up on the young man in question.

The bad news: I've just mentally restrained Robin, preventing him from going after Pamela and Harley, and have therefore pissed off Batman. As well as put him on edge, most likely, from doing so without moving.

The good news, however: Kevin Conroy! Yay!

"Yeah…yeah, I'm fine." He gets into a fighting stance but looks over his shoulder to where a green mass of plants is hauling ass into the distance. "But Poison Ivy and Harley got away."

My hands immediately go into my pants pockets, with my right one wrapping around and pressing and holding the 'up' arrow on a square device that, had it been outside of my pocket, wouldn't have looked out of place in a Saturday morning cartoon. A gray crayon box-sized device with two red and green buttons and two arrows facing opposite directions. As well as a small antenna sticking out of its center-top.

The antenna was, admittedly, to make it look cooler. Again, not that anyone could see it at the moment. But none of that really mattered…to anyone other than me, that is. As long as it worked, that's all that truly mattered.

"We'll worry about them later. For now, focus on the fight in front of us." His eyes narrow at me; it's so weird how he can do that with his mask on. I wonder what kind of material it's made of. But that's honestly not what I should be worrying about at the moment.

He goes to throw a Batarang at me, but I'm having none of it. "Uh, _woah_, hold the fuck up! What fight in front of us?" I look around the street, doing a full spin all dramatic-like. "Who's fighting? 'Cause _I'm _not fighting." It's funny to see him stop mid-swing, but it's something I'll have to laugh about later. "I don't know what you _think_ just happened, Batman, but it definitely wasn't anything to do with me."

"…you involved yourself the moment you helped two wanted criminals escape." Technically, I did. But I'm not interested in being caught up in technicalities if it gets me into a fight with these two.

"I call bullshit." I state flatly and quickly. "All I did was save one of them. The clown chick. Harley Quinn, was it? She was seconds away from bleeding out; among other things. Poison Ivy is the one who scooped her up and took her away once she knew she wasn't dead."

I didn't give him room to say anything else. How could I? Letting him take control of the situation was a sure way to lose all of my moral high ground. "If that's all you were going to come after me for, because I _know_ you're not going to try and fight me over whatever the hell happened to the kid suddenly getting pulled to the ground from where he was in the air, I'm going to go ahead and leave."

I turn on my heels and begin to walk away, internally debating whether I should feel badass for stopping freaking _Batman_ in his tracks or terrified that he can now recognize my face. Letting out a silent sigh of relief at the comforting thought that the scrambler/mobile EMP in my pocket was keeping his helmet or bodysuit or wherever it was he kept his camera from recording me.

A bit pointless if he can spot me on sight, but at least he won't have any way to accurately map out my facial features with biometrics. Well, unless he's also a master artist alongside his many _other _convenient skills…that overpowered dick.

Speaking of him being a dick,

I hear the Batarang before I see it, and I drop to snatch it out of the air before it hits the ground in front of me. Presumably done to intimidate me into not walking away from him. Fat lot of good it did him, _man_ was my confidence in facing him a lot higher now that I'd effectively brushed him off, as I put it away in my empty pants pocket. I'd need to check it for trackers later, but other than that it'd be a good souvenir to go with all the others I've picked up from his many fights across the city.

I keep walking, though, testing the possibility that he only did so to try and get me to use my telekinesis or to have me fight back in some way. Normally it'd be something I find out for sure with my mind. But there was this one comic, or maybe an episode of one of the animated shows he was in, where his mind was portrayed to be under his own control due to his borderline unnatural mental fortitude.

…never mind what I said about that earlier confidence boost. Batman is still intimidating as fuck! Agh! I _hate _that he's so cool! It's incredibly inconvenient for me now that I'm trying to work around his notice!

They do nothing as I leave them to…whatever it is they plan on doing with the rest of their night and walk off into the night. At least, that's what they think as I disappear around the diner's corner and walk into the alley. Instead, I find myself toeing the line of the threat/promise the ladies gave me about not messing with their heads, as I focus on sending them a message with, and I love knowing I can say _and _do this, _the power of my fucking mind_.

It was a lot more difficult of a trick to pull off since I couldn't see them. But, at the very least, they were close by. So that helped ease the strain it placed on me. A master of this skill, I am _not_.

_'__Wait until the Dynamic Duo leave and then quietly make your way out the back of the diner. Also, grab some of the leftover food if you can. I'm still hungry.'_

Even after all we ate, there was still a shit-ton of food left. And I didn't plan on letting it all just go to waste. I just hope Oswald didn't mind me bringing in any outside food to his place of business.

Then, while I wait for the girls to meet with me, I focus my hearing on the two vigilantes standing near where I left them. And by near, I mean up on the rooftop of the building beside the bank.

Probably to stand guard as the police came and handled whatever mess they left behind. And if the faint sounds of mad cackling mixed in with wet coughs coming from deep within the bank, probably the vault, are any indication, then they want to make sure that the sick fuck inside doesn't get away so soon after they caught him.

So, they'll probably track the car or truck that'll take him to Arkham.

It's a bit difficult to hear _everything _what with the horde of sirens starting to come into range among the other noises of the nocturnal city, but I can still make out the majority of their conversation.

"…ou don't think he was really just out on a walk, do you?" Robin.

"No, I don't." Batman.

"Right? The timing is too convenient. He shows up in time to save Harley from…dying…" I can hear the shocked realization and regret in his voice. "She almost died…the Joker almost killed her…and we couldn't do anything to stop him. I mean, he's always been crazy and he's never exactly strayed away from getting physical with her…but…" He trails off.

But the Joker's probably never done anything as violent or as near-life ending to Harley as whatever he did that ended in her smashing out of a window and down several stories into a pile of glass and metal in the shape of a car.

"From his appearance and the short amount of time it took to heal Harley from what should have been , I'm almost certain he is who I think he is." My heart starts to beat a little faster and a small chill starts going down my spine.

No. Don't you fucking dare know me. It's too soon to be on your radar.

"Who is he?" Come on, come _on~_

"As far as I know, he doesn't have an actual name. But everyone who he comes into contact with knows him as Magic Man." I know I expected it, and desperately hoped it wouldn't be, what with Bruce Wayne being in the group of Gotham's elite and therefore in the circle of people who knew about me. But, seriously, FUCK!

How much did he know about me? How long had he been keeping an eye on me? Has he seen me using _any_ of my other powers aside from my Healing? Did he let me go just now to play the long game? Was he _actually _going to tail the Joker back to Arkham? There were too many unknowns! Robin, quick, keep asking questions! Be the clueless fucker I know you can be! Channel your 1960s live-action self! I know Burt Ward is deep in their _somewhere_!

"He showed up in Gotham around two years ago. So far, he's gained a reputation amongst Gotham's wealthiest families for being a 'miracle worker'. Curing diseases and injuries that modern medicine can't in exchange for small fortunes." I can't tell if he's being disdainful or not. His '_I am the_ _night!_' voice, while cool as shit to listen to, is throwing me off.

"Regardless of whether or not he may have done anything tonight, it doesn't mean he won't try something at some point in the future. The Batarang he picked up had a tracker on it, so we'll see where he goes from here once we get to the Batcave. If we can find where he lives, we can keep a closer eye on his movements."

Aha! I _knew_ he was trying to pull some tracker shit. Point: me. But too bad it won't work, bitch! This time, anyway. "So, we let him go now to catch him later?" A silence falls, and I assume he goes for a solemn nod. I can picture it in my head and it's honestly kind of surreal.

"As for Harley, we'll-" The sound of sirens, now seconds away from pulling up, drowns out whatever it is he says after that. Which sucked, because I was curious as to how he was going to handle telling an eleven year old boy that this wasn't going to be the worst thing he'll be seeing in their line of work. Frankly, I'm surprised it's taken him three years to see something as terrible as this in a city as terrible as Gotham.

From there, it takes fifteen minutes before the Joker and his goons are carefully loaded into the back of a police van and taken away to Arkham, most likely, with Batman and Robin following closely behind. And then another five for Grace and Caitlin to make their way out to the alley while simultaneously avoiding the police that have only just then decided to check out the plant-overrun diner.

The door leading into the diner's kitchen opens quietly as Caitlin and Grace come through. What isn't quiet is Grace having to squeeze herself and the paper bags of food she's carrying through the comparatively small door.

I hop down from my place on the fire escape. "Oh, awesome! Here, let me get that for you." The bags leave her arms and hover in the air between the three of us. One does come towards me, however. Hopefully one with a-ah! Yes! A burger. Before I take a bite, I look at the two of them. "And, uh, sorry for the surprise telepathy. Considering we just had a whole thing about how I wouldn't mess with your minds…you know."

"Well, you didn't fuck with us or anything, right?" Caitlin narrows her eyes.

Shaking my head, "No. If I was going to mess with your mind in a significant manner, I'd do it when I had a lot of time on my hands and was able to be in a lot of physical contact with you." God was that a bold faced almost-lie; as I told them of my methodology rather than declare my willingness or capability. I could do it right now and they wouldn't even suspect that I did, probably. They didn't need to know that. Because knowing that I _could _mess with their minds was one thing. But I still needed to be able to surprise them if things came down to it.

Absolute trust was not something the four of us had nor was it something I could see myself placing in anyone else. Not in the immediate future, at least. No, wait, not even in the distant future. That's the kind of thinking that gets you betrayed. That's just not the way the DC Universe works in any medium.

Anyone can betray me at any time whether voluntary or involuntary. And vice versa.

It was better this way.

Safer. For all of us.

The two search my face for any traces of a lie but find nothing. Which of course they didn't. I've long since taught myself how to lie properly. There are a _surprising_ amount of very helpful tutorials online, and a few decent ones in book form, for just about everything. Needless to say, lying with a perfectly straight face was just one of my many new talents. Oh, man…am _I _going to be an overpowered fuckhead now?

Because I can live with that.

"Okay." Grace drawls. "But remember, we're done if you even _think_ about it."

I nod. "Of course."

The solemn moment is slightly ruined as I take a crunchy bite of my burger. My delicious _cheese_burger. Mm~ Oh! I swallow. "Okay, so we should probably head out before any cops come looking back here again. I've already had to shoo them away like three times." Seriously, there are only going to be so many times I can handle Officer Douglas before someone notices that he keeps coming back without remembering why he left.

They nod and we're suddenly in the air, high enough to be mistaken as birds but low enough to avoid getting my food wet from the cloud moisture. It'll be a bit cold, but I'm okay with that as long as my food is good.

Over the sound of the wind, I call out to them. "So, we'll be going to Oswald's place next." Blank stares. "Oswald. The Penguin? You know, whose real name is Oswald Cobblepot? Or, well, Kapelput."

The reactions I get consist of "Oh~ Right. I remember now." and "Yeah, you did say something about that earlier, didn't you?"

"Yeah. Now, Oswald won't be a part of things like you three are and how some of the others will be. I'm almost positive he'd rat us out to Batman or whoever else come knocking on his door about us if put under enough pressure. But since our only other alternatives are going to either the Falcone Family or the Black Mask, I'll gladly go to Oswald. Of the three, he's the most predictable and the easiest to deal with."

"…any way you could go and talk to him without me there?" Caitlin asks.

I furrow my brows. "Why? Did you piss him off or something?" Which I could definitely see. Caitlin didn't seem the type to put up with his expectations of how people were to treat him. Especially in his own lounge.

"Yeah. You could say that." Figures. She looks off to the side.

"What? Did you rob him or something? Kill some of his guys? I'm not sure that he'd be the sort of person who'd mind anything like that for too long." Though that was just a guess.

"…I may have said some choice words about his mother after some…unfortunate business. An attempt at teaming up against Batman gone wrong." Anger beginning to tint her voice. "Which was _entirely_ his fault! All because that stupid fish-eating freak had to waste time _gloating_ instead of getting away with our money! Ugh!"

Oof. That's not good. If _Gotham_, the live-action show that was so fucking good from beginning to end, was any relevant indication, talking about Oswald's mom was a quick way to piss him off for life. I can't imagine it being much different here and now.

"Okay. That's all good, no worries. In fact, it's better if you _both_ stay outside for this. No sense in giving away the fact that we're working together, right? I'll go inside and do what I need to and you two can just, uh, you'll just stay on a nearby rooftop with the food." I smile, taking another bite of my burger and following up after swallowing. "Arguably the more important job."

They nodded.

A few minutes into our short journey, we land on the rooftop of the building across from Oswald's place. It's an old apartment building. Whose location _sucks_ for the tenants since those spotlights occasionally flashed across basically every window as it moved. But I figure they might have gotten some light resistant curtains to deal with that, so I don't think much on the passing observation.

Before I can say anything, though, Grace speaks as she begins digging gingerly through one of our bags. Damn it, I wanted those tenders… "Hey. Back there with Batman, you could've easily taken him down, right? Back in Arkham, you ripped off cell doors made of metal like they were nothing and shattered the glass to mine with just a few punches. Hell, you cracked it with just the tips of your fingers. So why not just do the same with him?"

Alright, fair question.

"Yeah," Caitlin pipes up. "or why not use your mind powers to mess with _his_ mind or something? Which I'd be totally cool with, by the way, since it's not _me_. You just walked away and left him to come after us later. That's setting us up for failure down the road, if you ask me."

I nod. "Well, I can tell you, Orca, that using my powers to deal with Batman is _not_ an option. Not right now. As far I know, he's only aware that I have the ability to bring people back from the brink of death. Like he saw me do with Harley. Oh, I should mention that Pamela and her friend who happens to be a girl, I would love it if you could do me a favor and call Harley that whenever you talk about her, are safe for the time being. In case you, you know, care at all. I'll just need to pick her up in a little bit. But, back to what I was saying, letting Batman know there's more to me than what he's seen in dangerous."

They smile conspiratorially and nod, knowing full well just what kind of calculative mind the man they've been struggling against for years has under the cowl. How easily he can pick apart weaknesses to his advantage. And also because teasing Pamela sounds like fun. In just an hour of light conversation, I'd discovered how easy it was to get under her skin with certain topics.

Harley being her not-girlfriend, but yes she actually was (SHIP CONFIRMED! THERE IS NO DENYING IT NOW PAMELA YOU GODDAMN TSUNDERE!), was now added to the list. Alongside that was, obviously, the Joker, mankind's oppression over plants and the Earth in general, and not being taken seriously. Funnily enough, almost all of which have just cemented myself in a positive light she's probably not going to betray, for the time being, in her mind.

Saving Harley from a Joker-related death, saving the Earth form mankind, taking her environmental concerns seriously when just about everyone else brushed her off both before and after she became Poison Ivy, and soon I'd be killing the pasty-faced fuck himself.

Yes, I do believe I've managed to sway her form what she originally planned. Which was, as I found out from peering into her mind outside of Arkham, to slowly turn my future group against me and wait until I'd succeeded in powering them up before using them to fulfill whatever goals she had in mind. Which was none, as of the few minutes it had taken her to come up with the plan.

You know, I don't think I should be thinking of monitoring her mind for any thoughts of possible betrayal so casually…ah, well. What can you do?

"So, it's better for me to avoid directly fighting with him until we have a stronger leg to stand on. And, Caitlin, I didn't fight with him _now _because one: if I did he'd be hounding after us until we all ended up in Arkham. And two: because incapacitating him now is, quite simply, a fucked up thing to do to Gotham City."

I get confused looks, as if they never thought of Batman as anything more than a nuisance and couldn't see any detriment to him being gone. "You probably don't think about this often enough, since you were young children at the time, but do you remember what Gotham was like _before_ Martha and Thomas Wayne were murdered?" I'd done a lot of research the last two years in order to satisfy my curiosity as to which DC Universe described 'pre-Crime Alley shooting Gotham' the right way.

As expected, they shook their heads.

"Not really." Grace. "I mean, my grandpa always complained about how things 'were better' when they were around. But I'd always just brush that off as something that all old people say when they're bitter about life." Caitlin hums in reminiscent agreement, a bittersweet smile on her face.

"I don't really remember how the city was, either. But that's funny, Orca. My grandmother and my parents were all the same exact way growing up. And I remember that whenever we went to visit her in Blüdhaven when I was real young, she and my parents would always spend the time listening in to the speeches and interviews the Wayne's gave on tv. And, you know, there must have been a lot of them because we went over to her place just about every weekend. But I was, you know, a normal kid. I was more interested in building my model rockets and reading ahead in my science textbook for school."

Grace and I stared at her blankly. Scratch that, Grace was looking at her with the 'oh, my gosh, you too?' look. _I_ was giving her the blank stare of 'you're kidding, right?'. But I push on past their definitely nerd-like childhood passions. Despite my intelligence now, I wasn't always like this. I was actually a jock in high school, if you could believe it, so looking down on spending one's daylight hours _inside _when there was a world _outside_ the house waiting to be explored is almost a way of life by this point.

But we're losing focus, so I push on.

"Gotham was on the up and up when they were still alive. Or, at least, they were working hard towards getting it there. And they were close. In their lifetime, at least from the time that they took over as heads of the Wayne family, crime was looking to be at an all-time low. Rapes, murders, robberies, hell even pollution, and just about everything else was being committed maybe once every few days by the people who were set in their criminal lifestyle. No different from, say, New York. Which was a vast improvement from being like how Blüdhaven is today.

Employment was up because of Wayne Enterprises following the direction of Thomas Wayne's vision of improving the city as much as he could with everything he could, the homeless weren't as rampant an issue what with Martha Wayne's hands-on initiatives, the economy was much more stable and the people were happy to live in a place that truly symbolized what they thought of as The American Dream.

And yet, in the twenty years since their deaths, everything they achieved through all of their no doubt countless hours of dedication and arduous work was flipped on their heads. Employment is down, since none of the men and women on the Board of Directors was half the visionary Thomas was and was twice as inefficient. Martha's guiding hand and unrelenting attitude was no longer putting up a nigh impenetrable resistance against the interference in her programs from greedy assholes in suits trying to capitalize either politically or financially on the suffering of the lower class. And the dream had given way to a nightmare that would come to serve to be the stomping grounds for a whole host of supervillains," The two looked sheepishly to the ground, since they knew they were part of that 'host of supervillains'. "and the remaining assholes in suits that would come to terrorize anyone and everyone in their path."

I could tell Grace was starting to pick up on what I was saying. Caitlin not so much. "…okay, but what does that have to do with Batman?"

Grace cuts in before I can explain. "Batman is part of the reason we're not back to Blüdhaven levels of rape and all that other stuff despite the Waynes dying, alongside Bruce Wayne doing what he can on his own. He doesn't just go after the 'supervillains'. He goes after _everyone _who's a criminal. Something we forget because nowadays only the fights he has with us make it to the front of the newspapers and the nightly news."

Caitlin's eyes widen in understanding. She turns back to me. "So, if you were to take him down-which you definitely could, right? You're not just scared of fighting him or anything, right?"

I make an 'eh' sound and shrug my shoulders. "It's not fighting him that I'm afraid of. The dude is just terrifying in the sense that he is _relentless_. Short of killing him, which I can't and won't do for personal reasons, Batman will most likely never stop trying to _get me_ if I were to make it apparent that I was a supervillain that needs to be gotten. If I were to be seen in his eyes like you guys are, he would dedicate however long it would take to study me, learn my weaknesses and plot up some way to kill me, strip me of my powers though I wouldn't really know how, or something equally as terrible. It's better to remain neutral for as long as I possibly can. Hopefully he dies or something before he decides I'm a threat." I shrug again.

"Right. Good to know. Anyway, so, if you were to take him down, then it's not just us superpowered bad guys that would be able to do what we want…"

"It would be all the worst of the worst of the _regular _people too. Not that there aren't some of those with superpowers either. The point is…Batman dying or otherwise being out of the equation is essentially giving the green light for people to do as much terrible shit as they can before some other vigilante is inspired by what Batman did for the city and comes and takes over. That's essentially why I didn't go all out or even _try _to fight him. Either way, depending on whether he lives or dies, Gotham and the helpless people in it _lose_. And I _know _I said I wasn't a superhero or a vigilante, I'm technically not even a decent person all of the time, but I'd rather not have to deal with the guilt of knowing that somewhere out there, Batman _isn't _stopping a woman from being raped, a child form being kidnapped, or some guy from getting beaten to death in an alley."

We stand in silence for a few minutes before I clap my hands together. "Well! That was somber, and I think it's time to move on. Unless there's anything else you wanted to know?"

"Nope." "I'm good."

"Awesome. Now, I shall be back in a little while, once I get Oswald to deliver a message for me." I walk to the edge of the roof, step up to the edge and turn back to face them. "Stay out of sight just in case any bats decide to show up. I have a feeling he won't take kindly to finding you two out of Arkham."

I turn back to face the edge, below me a dark alley facing the entrance to the Iceberg Lounge, only to turn back around once again at the sound of Orca's voice. "What message? Who's it for? Someone on the list?"

Letting out a laugh, I shrug. "That depends on who Oswald can get in touch with first! We'll be taking this thing one step at a time, remember that! But I'll let you know who it is when I get back!" Then I step off and drop to the damp and dirty ground below.

I loved doing this next part.


End file.
